| Lyrics: | by Bob Dylan
Well, Frankie Lee and Judas Priest,
They were the best of
friends.
So when Frankie Lee needed money one day,
Judas quickly pulled out a roll of
tens
And placed them on a footstool
Just above the plotted plain,
Sayin', "Take your
pick, Frankie Boy,
My loss will be your gain."
Well, Frankie Lee, he sat right
down
And put his fingers to his chin,
But with the cold eyes of Judas on him,
His
head began to spin.
"Would ya please not stare at me like that," he said,
"It's just my
foolish pride,
But sometimes a man must be alone
And this is no place to
hide."
Well, Judas, he just winked and said,
"All right, I'll leave you
here,
But you'd better hurry up and choose
Which of those bills you want,
Before they
all disappear."
"I'm gonna start my pickin' right now,
Just tell me where you'll
be."
Judas pointed down the road
And said, "Eternity!"
"Eternity?" said Frankie
Lee,
With a voice as cold as ice.
"That's right," said Judas Priest,
"Eternity,
Though you might call it 'Paradise.'"
"I don't call it
anything,"
Said Frankie Lee with a smile.
"All right," said Judas Priest,
"I'll see
you after a while."
Well, Frankie Lee, he sat back down,
Feelin' low and
mean,
When just then a passing stranger
Burst upon the scene,
Saying, "Are you
Frankie Lee, the gambler,
Whose father is deceased?
Well, if you are,
There's a
fellow callin' you down the road
And they say his name is Priest."
"Oh, yes, he is
my friend,"
Said Frankie Lee in fright,
"I do recall him very well,
In fact, he just
left my sight."
"Yes, that's the one," said the stranger,
As quiet as a mouse,
"Well,
my message is, he's down the road,
Stranded in a house."
Well, Frankie Lee, he
panicked,
He dropped ev'rything and ran
Until he came up to the spot
Where Judas
Priest did stand.
"What kind of house is this," he said,
"Where I have come to
roam?"
"It's not a house," said Judas Priest,
"It's not a house . . . it's a
home."
Well, Frankie Lee, he trembled,
He soon lost all control
Over ev'rything
which he had made
While the mission bells did toll.
He just stood there staring
At
that big house as bright as any sun,
With four and twenty windows
And a woman's face in
ev'ry one.
Well, up the stairs ran Frankie Lee
With a soulful, bounding
leap,
And, foaming at the mouth,
He began to make his midnight creep.
For sixteen
nights and days he raved,
But on the seventeenth he burst
Into the arms of Judas
Priest,
Which is where he died of thirst.
No one tried to say a thing
When they
took him out in jest,
Except, of course, the little neighbor boy
Who carried him to
rest.
And he just walked along, alone,
With his guilt so well concealed,
And muttered
underneath his breath,
"Nothing is revealed."
Well, the moral of the story,
The
moral of this song,
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong.
So
when you see your neighbor carryin' somethin',
Help him with his load,
And don't go
mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road |
