| Lyrics: | by Bob Dylan
There's a whole lot of people suffering tonight
From the disease of
conceit.
Whole lot of people struggling tonight
From the disease of conceit.
Comes
right down the highway,
Straight down the line,
Rips into your senses
Through your
body and your mind.
Nothing about it that's sweet,
The disease of
conceit.
There's a whole lot of hearts breaking tonight
From the disease of
conceit,
Whole lot of hearts shaking tonight
From the disease of conceit.
Steps into
your room,
Eats your soul,
Over your senses
You have no control.
Ain't nothing
too discreet
About of disease of conceit.
There's a whole lot of people dying
tonight
From the disease of conceit,
Whole lot of people crying tonight
From the
disease of conceit,
Comes right out of nowhere
And you're down for the count
From the
outside world,
The pressure will mount,
Turn you into a piece of meat,
The disease of
conceit.
Conceit is a disease
That the doctors got no cure
They've done a lot
of research on it
But what it is, they're still not sure
There's a whole lot of
people in trouble tonight
From the disease of conceit,
Whole lot of people seeing double
tonight
From the disease of conceit,
Give ya delusions of grandeur
And a evil
eye
Give you idea that
You're too good to die,
Then they bury you from your head to
your feet
From the disease of conceit |
