Bob Dylan Blues

Got the Bob Dylan blues

And the Bob Dylan Shoes

And my clothes and my hair’s in a mess

But you know I just couldn’t care less

Goin’ to write me a song

Bout’ what’s right and what’s wrong

Bout’ god and my god and all that

Quiet while I make like a cat

Cause I’m a poet

Don’t ya know it

And the wind, you can blow it

Cause I’m Mr. Dylan, the king

And I’m free as a bird on the wing

Roam from town to town

Guess I get people down

But I don’t care too much about that

Cause my gut and my wallet are fat

Make a whole lotta dough

But I deserve it though

I’ve got soul and a good heart of gold

So I’ll sing about war in the cold

Cause I’m a poet

Don’t ya know it

And the wind, you can blow it

Cause I’m Mr. Dylan, the king

And I’m free as a bird on the wing

Well I sing about dreams

And I rhymes it with seems

Cause it seems that my dream always means

That I can prophesy all kinds of things

Well the guy that digs me

Should try hard to see

That he buys all my discs and a hat

And when I’m in town go see that

Cause I’m a poet

Don’t ya know it

And the wind, you can blow it

Cause I’m Mr. Dylan, the king

And I’m free as a bird on the wing