Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee
|
They're throwin' knives into the tree
|
Two big bags of dead man's bones
|
Got their noses to the grind stone
|
Livin' in the Land of Nod
|
Trustin' their fate to the hands of God
|
They pass by so silently
|
Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee
|
|
Well, they're goin' to the country, they're goin' to retire
|
They're takin' a streetcar named Desire
|
Lookin' at a window with a pecan pie
|
Lot of things they'd like they would never buy
|
Neither of them want to turn and run
|
They're makin' a voyage to the Sun
|
"His Master's Voice is calling me"
|
Said Tweedle Dum to Tweedle Dee
|
|
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum
|
I'll have more than some
|
They walk among the stately trees
|
They know the secrets of the police
|
Tweedle Dum said to Tweedle Dee,
|
"Your presence is obnoxious to me.
|
Feel like baby sittin' on a woman's knee."
|
Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee
|
|
Well, the rain beat'n' down on a window pane
|
I got love for you, and it's all in vain
|
Brains in a pot, they're beginning to boil
|
They're drippin' with garlic and olive oil
|
Tweedle Dee is on his hands and his knees
|
Sayin', "Throw me something, Mister, please!"
|
"What's good for you is good for me,"
|
Said Tweedle Dum to Tweedle Dee.
|
|
Well, they're living in a happy harmony
|
Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee
|
They're one day older and a dollar short
|
They got a parade permit and a police escort
|
They're lyin' low and they're makin' hay
|
They seem determined to go all the way
|
They run a brick 'n' tile company
|
Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee
|
|
Well, a childish dream is a deathless need
|
And a noble truth is a sacred creed
|
My pretty baby, she's looking around
|
She's wearin' a forty-thousand dollar gown
|
Tweedle Dee is a low down sorry old man
|
Tweedle Dum he'll stab you where you stand
|
"I've had too much of your company,"
|
said Tweedle Dum to Tweedle Dee.
|
|
-----------------
|
Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum
|
| Bob Dylan |
