All Along The Watchtower (Cover)
P.O.S.
Paupers, Peasants, Princes and Kings: The Songs Of Bob Dylan
68
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(There must be some kinda way outta here)
"There must be some way outta here,"
Said the Joker to the Thief
"There must be some way outta here, this place..."
Said the clown to the crook
"There's so much hustle and bustle
So much disgusting and, my man, its got me shook."
"See, they come in with their suits and their ties
They hollow my bottles and step on my pride
Hop in their SUVs and ride, damn."
"They trample my earth
I rant and I curse
But there ain't no gettin' across
See they don't know what it's worth."
"Or they do, but they don't care."
"Super sized -- terrified, way more than their share
But my share, they don't share, I'm scared."
"I'm only halfway past the righteous type
But I'm thinkin' like Bronson
And I'm gonna take one of their righteous lives!"
"Now calm down," the crook spoke
Lit up a smoke
Ashed it in the cuff of his jeans
And cleared his throat
Like, (*coughs*)
"While this cigarette is killing me, its calming me."
"Most these people see this life as comedy
But not me. And not you."
"Appreciate your vision."
"I waste my breath on cigarettes
You waste your breath on people who don't wanna listen."
"See, we ain't got a pot to piss in and we cool with that
But keep in mind that most people see us as rats."
"And I ain't saying you shouldn't try and let 'em know
But you know what ignorance is--
If you was happy would you let it go?"
He stood up, his pointer finger pressed right next to his ear
"Your next world war and your revolution's right here."
"Yeah that, or you should kill us all."
"My last request?"
"Triple Rock homie, last call."
All along the watchtower, watch how we knocks our, sweet, incomplete
To a prince, see the serfs, see unique
See the threat but we don't see defeat (x2)
(Repeat)
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