| Lyrics: | Ramblin' outa the wild West,
Leavin' the towns I love the best.
Thought I'd seen some ups
and down,
Til I come into New York town.
People goin' down to the ground,
Buildings
goin' up to the sky.
Wintertime in New York town,
The wind blowin' snow
around.
Walk around with nowhere to go,
Somebody could freeze right to the bone.
I froze
right to the bone.
New York Times said it was the coldest winter in seventeen years;
I
didn't feel so cold then.
I swung on to my old guitar,
Grabbed hold of a subway
car,
And after a rocking, reeling, rolling ride,
I landed up on the downtown
side;
Greenwich Village.
I walked down there and ended up
In one of them
coffee-houses on the block.
Got on the stage to sing and play,
Man there said, "Come back
some other day,
You sound like a hillbilly;
We want folk singers here."
Well, I got
a harmonica job, begun to play,
Blowin' my lungs out for a dollar a day.
I blowed inside out
and upside down.
The man there said he loved m' sound,
He was ravin' about how he loved m'
sound;
Dollar a day's worth.
And after weeks and weeks of hangin' around,
I finally
got a job in New York town,
In a bigger place, bigger money too,
Even joined the union and
paid m' dues.
Now, a very great man once said
That some people rob you with a fountain
pen.
It didn't take too long to find out
Just what he was talkin' about.
A lot of people
don't have much food on their table,
But they got a lot of forks n' knives,
And they gotta
cut somethin'.
So one mornin' when the sun was warm,
I rambled out of New York
town.
Pulled my cap down over my eyes-ac |
