Bob Dylan - Tombstone Blues

The sweet pretty things are
in bed now of course
The city fathers
they're trying to endorse
The reincarnation
of Paul Revere's horse
But the town has
no need to be nervous
The ghost of Belle Starr
she hands down her wits
To Jezebel the nun
she violently knits
A bald wig
for Jack the Ripper who sits
At the head of the chamber
of commerce
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues
The hysterical bride
in the penny arcade
Screaming she moans
I've just been made
Then sends out for the doctor
who pulls down the shade
Says My advice is to not
let the boys in
Now the medicine man comes
and he shuffles inside
He walks with a swagger
and he says to the bride
Stop all this weeping
swallow your pride
You will not die
it's not poison
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues
Well John the Baptist
after torturing a thief
Looks up at his hero
the Commander in Chief
Saying Tell me great hero
but please make it brief
Is there a hole for me
to get sick in
The Commander
in Chief answers him
while chasing a fly
Saying Death to all those
who would whimper and cry
And dropping a bar bell
he points to the sky
Saving The sun's not yellow
it's chicken
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues
The king of the Philistines
his soldiers to save
Put jawbones on their tombstones
and flatters their graves
Puts the pied pipers in prison
and fattens the slaves
Then sends them
out to the jungle
Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch
he burns out their camps
With his faithful slave
Pedro behind him he tramps
With a fantastic
collection of stamps
To win friends
and influence his uncle
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues
The geometry of innocence
flesh on the bone
Causes Galileo's math book
to get thrown
At Delilah
who sits worthlessly alone
But the tears on her cheeks
are from laughter
Now I wish I could give
Brother Bill his great thrill
I would set him in chains
at the top of the hill
Then send out for some pillars
and Cecil B. DeMille
He could die happily ever after
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues
Where Ma Raney
and Beethoven
once unwrapped their bed roll
Tuba players now rehearse
around the flagpole
And the National Bank
at a profit sells road maps
for the soul
To the old folks home
and the college
Now I wish I could write you
a melody so plain
That could hold you
dear lady from going insane
That could ease you
and cool you
and cease the pain
Of your useless
and pointless knowledge
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues
The sweet pretty things are
in bed now of course
The city fathers
they're trying to endorse
The reincarnation
of Paul Revere's horse
But the town has
no need to be nervous
The ghost of Belle Starr
she hands down her wits
To Jezebel the nun
she violently knits
A bald wig
for Jack the Ripper who sits
At the head of the chamber
of commerce
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues
The hysterical bride
in the penny arcade
Screaming she moans
I've just been made
Then sends out for the doctor
who pulls down the shade
Says My advice is to not
let the boys in
Now the medicine man comes
and he shuffles inside
He walks with a swagger
and he says to the bride
Stop all this weeping
swallow your pride
You will not die
it's not poison
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues
Well John the Baptist
after torturing a thief
Looks up at his hero
the Commander in Chief
Saying Tell me great hero
but please make it brief
Is there a hole for me
to get sick in
The Commander
in Chief answers him
while chasing a fly
Saying Death to all those
who would whimper and cry
And dropping a bar bell
he points to the sky
Saving The sun's not yellow
it's chicken
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues
The king of the Philistines
his soldiers to save
Put jawbones on their tombstones
and flatters their graves
Puts the pied pipers in prison
and fattens the slaves
Then sends them
out to the jungle
Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch
he burns out their camps
With his faithful slave
Pedro behind him he tramps
With a fantastic
collection of stamps
To win friends
and influence his uncle
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues
The geometry of innocence
flesh on the bone
Causes Galileo's math book
to get thrown
At Delilah
who sits worthlessly alone
But the tears on her cheeks
are from laughter
Now I wish I could give
Brother Bill his great thrill
I would set him in chains
at the top of the hill
Then send out for some pillars
and Cecil B. DeMille
He could die happily ever after
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues
Where Ma Raney
and Beethoven
once unwrapped their bed roll
Tuba players now rehearse
around the flagpole
And the National Bank
at a profit sells road maps
for the soul
To the old folks home
and the college
Now I wish I could write you
a melody so plain
That could hold you
dear lady from going insane
That could ease you
and cool you
and cease the pain
Of your useless
and pointless knowledge
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues
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