| Lyrics: | by Bob Dylan
I got to know, Lord, when to pull back on the reins,
Death can be the
result of the most underrated pain.
Satan whispers to ya, "Well, I don't want to bore
ya,
But when ya get tired of the Miss So-and-so I got another woman for ya."
Trouble
in mind, Lord, trouble in mind,
Lord, take away this trouble in mind.
When the deeds
that you do don't add up to zero,
It's what's inside that counts, ask any war hero.
You
think you can hide but you're never alone,
Ask Lot what he thought when his wife turned to
stone.
Trouble in mind, Lord, trouble in mind,
Lord, take away this trouble in
mind.
Here comes Satan, prince of the power of the air,
He's gonna make you a law
unto yourself, gonna build a bird's nest in your hair.
He's gonna deaden your conscience 'til
you worship the work of your own hands,
You'll be serving strangers in a strange, forsaken
land.
Trouble in mind, Lord, trouble in mind,
Lord, take away this trouble in
mind.
Well, your true love has caught you where you don't belong,
You say, "Baby,
everybody's doing it so I guess it can't be wrong."
The truth is far from you, so you know you
got to lie,
Then you're all the time defending what you can never justify.
Trouble
in mind, Lord, trouble in mind,
Lord, take away this trouble in mind.
So many of my
brothers, they still want to be the boss,
They can't relate to the Lord's kingdom, they can't
relate to the cross.
They self-inflict punishment on their own broken lives,
Put their
faith in their possessions, in their jobs or their wives.
Trouble in mind, Lord, trouble
in mind,
Lord, take away this trouble in mind.
When my life is over, it'll be like a
puff of smoke,
How long must I suffer, Lord, how long must I be provoked?
Satan will give
you a little taste, then he'll move in with rapid speed,
Lord keep my blind side covered and
see that I don't bleed |
