Bob Dylan's Blues

Unlike most of the songs nowadays That are being written uptown in Tin Pan Alley That's where most of the folk songs come from nowadays This-, this is a song, this wasn't written up there This was written somewhere down in the United States Well, the Lone Ranger and Tonto They are ridin' down the line Fixin' everybody's troubles Everybody's except mine Someone musta told them that I was doin' fine Oh, you five-and-ten cent women With nothin' in your heads I got a real gal I'm lovin' Lord, I'll love her 'til I'm dead Go away from my door and my window, too Right now Lord, I ain't goin' down to no racetrack See no sports car run I don't have no sports car And I don't even care to have one I can walk anytime around the block Well, the wind keeps a-blowin' me Up and down the street With my hat in my hand And my boots on my feet Watch out so you don't step on me (Call you) Well, look it here buddy You want to be like me? Pull out your six-shooter And rob every bank you can see Tell the judge I said it was alright Yeah