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(Bob Dylan) |
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"There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief, |
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"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief. |
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Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth, |
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None of them along the line know what any of it is worth." |
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"No reason to get excited," the thief, he kindly spoke, |
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"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke. |
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But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate, |
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So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late." |
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All along the watchtower, princes kept the view |
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While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too. |
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Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl, |
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Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl. |
