Tombstone Blues  - Bob Dylan

    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, a 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 factory, she ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley; he's looking for food
    I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues

    The hysterical bride in the penny arcade
    Screaming she moans, "I've just been made"
    And sends out for the doctor, who pulls down the shade
    And 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 factory, she ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley; he's looking for food
    I'm in the kitchen 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 that would whimper and cry"
    And dropping a barbell, he points to the sky
    Saying,  "The sun's not yellow, it's chicken"

    Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley; he's looking for food
    I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues

    The king of the Philistines, his soldiers to save
    Puts 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

    Gypsey 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 factory, she ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley; he's looking for food
    I'm in trouble with the tombstone blues

    The geometry of innocent flesh on the bone
    Causes Gallileo's math book to get thrown
    At Delila who's sitting worthlessly alone
    But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter

    I wish I could give brother Bill his big 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 factory, she ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley; he's looking for food
    I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues

    Well Ma Raney and Beethoven once unwrapped a bedroll
    Tuba players now rehearse around the flag pole
    And the National Bank at a profit sells roadmaps for the soul
    To the old folks home and the college

    I wish I could write you a melody so plain
    That would hold you dear lady from going insane
    That would ease you and cool you and cease the pain
    Of your useless and pointless knowledge

    Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
    Daddy's in the alley; he's looking for food
    I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues
      


    Disk

    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words