(Bob Dylan)
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Well you walk into the room, with your pencil in your hand
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You see somebody naked and you say: who's that man
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You try so hard, but you don't understand
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Just what you will say when you get home
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Because somethin' is happenin'
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You don't know what it is
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Do you, Mister Jones?
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You raise up your head and you ask: is this where it is?
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And somebody points to you and says: it's his
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And you say: what's mine and somebody else says: Well what is?
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And you say Oh my God, am I here all alone
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But somethin' is happenin'?
And you don't know what it is
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Do you, Mister Jones?
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You hand in your ticket and you go watch the geek
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Who immediately walks up to you when he hears you speak
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And says: how does it feel to be such a freak
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And you say: "impossible" as he hands you a bone
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And somethin' is happenin' here
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But you don't know what it is
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Do you, Mister Jones?
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You have many contacts among the lumber jacks
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To get you facts when someone attacks your imagination
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But nobody has any respect, anyway they already expect
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You to give a check to the tax-deductible Charity organizations
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Ah, you've been with the professors and they've all liked your looks
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With great lawyers you have discussed lappers and crooks
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You've been trough all of their Scott Fitzgerald books
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You're very well read, it's well-known
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But somethin' is happenin'
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And you don't know what it is
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Do you, Mister Jones?
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Well the sword swallower, he comes up to you and then he kneels
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He crosses himself and he clicks his high-heels
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And without further notice he asks you how it feels
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And he says: here is your throat back, thanks for the loan
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And you know something' is happenin'
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But you don't know what it is
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Do you, Mister Jones?
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Now you see this one-eyed midget, shouting the word "Now"
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And you say: for what reason, and he says "How"
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You say: "what does this mean", and he screams back: "you're a cow"
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Give me some milk or else go home
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And you know somethin' is happenin'
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But you don't know what it is
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Do you, Mister Jones?
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Well you walk into the room like a camel and then you frown
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You put your eyes in your pocket and your nose to the ground
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There ought to be a law against you comin' around
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You should be made to wear earphones
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'Cause somethin' is happenin'
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And you don't know what it is
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Do you, Mister Jones?
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-----------------
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Ballad Of A Thin Man
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| Golden Earring |
