|
You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last. |
|
But whatever you wish to keep, you'd better grab it fast. |
|
Yonder stands your orphan with his gun, |
|
Crying like a fire in the sun. |
|
Look out the saints are coming through |
|
And it's all over now, Baby Blue. |
|
The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense. |
|
Take what you have gathered from coincidence. |
|
The empty-handed painter from your streets |
|
Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets. |
|
This sky, too, is folding under you |
|
And it's all over now, Baby Blue. |
|
All your seasick sailors, they are rowing home. |
|
Your empty-handed armies are all going home. |
|
The lover who just walked out your door |
|
Has taken all his blankets from the floor. |
|
The carpet, too, is moving under you |
|
And it's all over now, Baby Blue. |
|
Leave your stepping stones behind you, something calls for you. |
|
Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you. |
|
The vagabond who's rapping at your door |
|
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore. |
|
Strike another match, go start anew |
|
And it's all over now, Baby Blue. |
