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Текст (слова) песни: Bob Dylan - Tombstone Blues



The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course

The city fathers theyre trying to endorse

The reincarnation of paul reveres horse

But the town has no need to be nervous

The ghost of belle starr she hands down her wits

To jezebel the nun she violently knits

A bald wig for jack the ripper who sits

At the head of the chamber of commerce

Mamas in the factory, she aint got no shoes

Daddys in the alley, hes lookin for food

Im in the kitchen with the tombstone blues

The hysterical bride in the penny arcade

Screaming she moans ive just been made

Then 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, its not poison

Mamas in the factory, she aint got no shoes

Daddys in the alley, hes lookin for food

Im 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 who would whimper and cry

And dropping a barbell he points to the sky

Saying the suns not yellow, its chicken

Mamas in the factory, she aint got no shoes

Daddys in the alley, hes lookin for food

Im in the kitchen with the tombstone blues

The king of the philistines his soldiers to save

Put jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their gravs

Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the slaves

Then sends them out to the jungle

Gypsy 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

Mamas in the factory, she aint got no shoes

Daddys in the alley, hes lookin for food

Im in the kitchen with the tombstone blues

The geometry of innocent flesh on the bone

Causes galileos math book to get thrown

At delilah whos sitting worthlessly alone

But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter

Now I wish I could give brother bill his great 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

Mamas in the factory, she aint got no shoes

Daddys in the alley, hes lookin for food

Im in the kitchen with the tombstone blues

 

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