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Tytuł: I Shall Be Free No. 10

  • Wykonawca: Bob Dylan
  • Wy¶wietleń: 252
I'm just average, common too
  I'm just like him, the same as you
  I'm everybody's brother and son
  I ain't different than anyone
  It ain't no use a-talking to me
  It's just the same as talking to you.
  
  I was shadow-boxing earlier in the day
  I figured I was ready for Cassius Clay
  I said "Fee, fie, fo, fum, Cassius Clay here I come
  26, 27, 28, 29, I'm gonna make your face look just like mine
  Five, four, three, two, one, Cassius Clay you'd better run
  99, 100 101, 102, your ma won't even recognize you
  14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, gonna knock him clean right out of his spleenf.
  
  Well, I don't know, but I've been told
  The streets in heaven are lined with gold
  I ask you how things could get much worse
  If the Russians happen to get up there first
  Wowee! pretty scary !
  
  Now, I'm liberal, but to a degree
  I want ev'rybody to be free
  But if you think that I'll let Barry Goldwater
  Move in next door and mary my daughter
  You must think I'm crazy !
  I wouldn't let him do it for all the farms in Cuba.
  
  Well, I set my monkey on the log
  And ordered him to do the Dog
  He wagged his tail and shook his head
  And he went and did the Cat instead
  He's a weird monkey, very funky.
  
  I sat with my high-heeled sneakers on
  Waiting to play tennis in the noonday sun
  I had my white shorts rolled up past my waist
  And my wig-hat falling in my face
  But they wouldn't let me on the tennis court.
  
  I gotta woman, she's so mean
  She sticks my boots in the washing machine
  Sticks me with buckshot when I'm nude
  Puts bubblegum in my food
  She's funny, wants my money, calls me honey.
  
  Now I gotta friend who spends his life
  Stabbing my picture with a bowie-knife
  Dreams of strangling me with a scarf
  When my name comes up he pretends to barf
  I've got a million friends !
  
  Now they asked me to read a poem
  At the sorority sister's home
  I got knocked down and my head was swimmin'
  I wound up with the Dean of Women
  Yippee ! I'm a poet, and I know it
  Hope I don't blow it.
  
  I'm gonna grow my hair down to my feet so strange
  So I look like a walking mountain range
  And I'm gonna ride into Omaha on a horse
  Out to the country club and the golf course
  Carry the New York Times, shoot a few holes, blow their minds.
  
  You're probably wondering by now
  Just what this song is all about
  What's probably got you baffled more
  What this thing here is for
  It's nothing
  It's something I learned over in England