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Bob Dylan - I Shall Be Free (Official Audio)
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Kredyty

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Bob Dylan
Bob Dylan
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bob Dylan
Bob Dylan
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
John Hammond
John Hammond
Producer

Tekst Utworu

Well, I took me a woman late last night I's three-fourths drunk, she looked all right 'Til she started peelin' off her onion-gook She took off her wig, an' said, "How do I look?" I was high-flyin' Bare-naked Out the window Well, sometimes I might get drunk Walk like a duck and smell like a skunk Don't hurt me none, it don't hurt my pride 'Cause I got my little lady right by my side She's-a tryin' to hide Pretendin' she don't know me I's out there paintin' on the old woodshed When a can of black paint, it fell on my head I went down to scrub and rub But I had to sit in back of the tub Cost a quarter Half-price Well, my telephone rang, it would not stop It's President Kennedy callin' me up He said, "My friend, Bob, what do we need to make the country grow?" I said, "My friend, John, Brigitte Bardot Anita Ekberg Sophia Loren" Country'll grow Well, I got a woman four feet short She yells and hollers and screams and snorts She tickles my nose, pats me on the head Rolls me over and kicks me outta bed She's a man-eater Meat-grinder Bad loser Oh, there ain't no use in me workin' all the time I got a woman who works herself blind Works up to her britches, up to her neck Writes me letters and sends me checks She's a humdinger Folk singer Late one day in the middle of the week Eyes were closed, I was half asleep I chased me, a woman up the hill Right in the middle of an air raid drill I jumped the fallout shelter I jumped the string-bean I jumped the TV dinner I jumped the shotgun Now, the man on the stand, he wants my vote He's a-runnin' for office on a ballot note He's out there preachin' in front of the steeple Tellin' me he loves all kinds of people He's eatin' bagels He's eatin' pizza He's eatin' chitlins Oh, I set me down on the television floor I flipped the channel on to number four Out of the shower comes a football man With a bottle of oil in his hand Greasy kid stuff But I want to know, Mr. Football Man Is what do you do about Willie Mays? Martin Luther King Olatunji? Well, the funniest woman I ever seen Was the great-granddaughter of Mr. Clean She takes about fifteen baths a day Wants me to grow a mustache on my face, she's insane Well, ya ask me why I'm drunk all the time It levels my head and eases my mind I just walk along and stroll and sing I'll see better days, and I'll do better things I'll catch dinosaurs Make love to Elizabeth Taylor Catch hell from Richard Burton
Writer(s): Bob Dylan Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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