Bob Dylan's Blues

Well, the Lone Ranger and Tonto

They are ridin' down the line

Fixin' ev'rybody's troubles

Ev'rybody's 'cept mine

Somebody musta tol' 'em

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'

And Lord I'll love her till I'm dead

Go away from my door and my window too

Right now

Lord, I ain't goin' down to no race track

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

Well, lookit 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 all right

Yes!