| Lyrics: | by Bob Dylan
Well, I took me a woman late last night,
I's three-fourths drunk, she
looked uptight.
She took off her wheel, took off her bell,
Took off her wig, said, "How do
I smell?"
I hot-footed it . . . bare-naked . . .
Out the window!
Well,
sometimes I might get drunk,
Walk like a duck and stomp like a skunk.
Don't hurt me none,
don't hurt my pride
'Cause I got my little lady right by my side.
(Right there
Proud
as can be)
I's out there paintin' on the old woodshed
When a can a black paint it
fell on my head.
I went down to scrub and rub
But I had to sit in back of the
tub.
(Cost a quarter
And I had to get out quick . . .
Someone wanted to come in and
take a sauna)
Well, my telephone rang it would not stop,
It's President Kennedy
callin' me up.
He said, "My friend, Bob, what do we need to make the country grow?"
I
said, "My friend, John, Brigitte Bardot,
Anita Ekberg, Sophia Loren."
(Put 'em all in the
same room with Ernest Borgnine!)
Well, I got a woman sleeps on a cot,
She yells and
hollers and squeals a lot.
Licks my face and tickles my ear,
Bends me over and buys me
beer.
(She's a honeymooner
A June crooner
A spoon feeder
And a natural
leader)
Oh, there ain't no use in me workin' so heavy,
I got a woman who works on
the levee.
Pumping that water up to her neck,
Every week she sends me a monthly
check.
(She's a humdinger
Folk singer
Dead ringer
For a thing-a-muh
jigger)
Late one day in the middle of the week,
Eyes were closed I was half
asleep.
I chased me a woman up the hill,
Right in the middle of an air raid drill.
It
was Little Bo Peep!
(I jumped a fallout shelter
I jumped a bean stalk
I jumped a
ferris wheel)
Now, the man on the stand he wants my vote,
He's a-runnin' for office
on the ballot note.
He's out there preachin' in front of the steeple,
Tellin' me he loves
all kinds-a people.
(He's eatin' bagels
He's eatin' pizza
He's eatin'
chitlins
He's eatin' bullshit!)
Oh, set me down on a television floor,
I'll
flip the channel to number four.
Out of the shower comes a grown-up man
With a bottle of
hair oil in his hand.
(It's that greasy kid stuff.
What I want to know, Mr. Football Man,
is
What do you do about Willy Mays and Yul Brynner,
Charles de Gaulle
And Robert
Louis Stevenson?)
Well, the funniest woman I ever seen
Was the great-granddaughter
of Mr. Clean.
She takes about fifteen baths a day,
Wants me to grow a cigar on my
face.
(She's a little bit heavy!)
Well, ask me why I'm drunk alla time,
It
levels my head and eases my mind.
I just walk along and stroll and sing,
I see better days
and I do better things.
(I catch dinosaurs
I make love to Elizabeth Taylor . .
.
Catch hell from Richard Burton |
