Desolation Row Revisited

Highway 61 Revisited
WRITTEN BY: BOB DYLAN

Oh God said to Abraham, “Kill me a son”

Abe says, “Man, you must be puttin’ me on”

God say, “No.” Abe say, “What?”

God say, “You can do what you want Abe, but

The next time you see me comin’ you better run”

Well Abe says, “Where do you want this killin’ done?”

God says, “Out on Highway 61”



Well Georgia Sam he had a bloody nose

Welfare Department they wouldn’t give him no clothes

He asked poor Howard where can I go

Howard said there’s only one place I know

Sam said tell me quick man I got to run

Ol’ Howard just pointed with his gun

And said that way down on Highway 61



Well Mack the Finger said to Louie the King

I got forty red, white and blue shoestrings

And a thousand telephones that don’t ring

Do you know where I can get rid of these things

And Louie the King said let me think for a minute son

And he said yes I think it can be easily done

Just take everything down to Highway 61



Now the fifth daughter on the twelfth night

Told the first father that things weren’t right

My complexion she said is much too white

He said come here and step into the light, he says hmm you’re right

Let me tell the second mother this has been done

But the second mother was with the seventh son

And they were both out on Highway 61



Now the rovin’ gambler he was very bored

He was tryin’ to create a next world war

He found a promoter who nearly fell off the floor

He said I never engaged in this kind of thing before

But yes I think it can be very easily done

We’ll just put some bleachers out in the sun

And have it on Highway 61

Copyright © 1965 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1993 by Special Rider Music

Welcome Imigrante

Oh welcome, welcome emigrante,
to my country, welcome home.
Welcome, welcome emigrante,
to the country that I love.

I am proud, I am proud,
I am proud of my forefathers and I say
they built this country.
And they came from far away
to a land they didn't know,
the same way you did, my friend.

So welcome, welcome emigrante,
to my country, welcome home.
Welcome, welcome emigrante,
to the country that I love.

I am proud, I am proud,
I am proud of my forefathers and I say
about their courage.
For they spoke a foreign language
and they laboured with theirs hands,
the same way you did, my friend.

So welcome, welcome emigrante,
to my country, welcome home.
Welcome, welcome emigrante,
to the country that I love.


Buffy Sainte Marie

Where Were You in Chicago
Phil Ochs

Oh, where were you in Chicago?
You know I didn't see you there
I didn't see them crack your head or breathe the tear gas air
Oh, where were you in Chicago?
When the fight was being fought
Oh, where were you in Chicago?
'Cause I was in Detroit.

Can You Please Crawl Out Your Window?
WRITTEN BY: BOB DYLAN

He sits in your room, his tomb, with a fist full of tacks
Preoccupied with his vengeance
Cursing the dead that cannot set him back
You know that he has no intentions
Of looking your way, unless it’s to say
That he needs you to test his inventions

Can you please crawl out your window?
How can you say he will haunt you?
You can go back to him any time you want to

He looks so truthful, is this how he feels
Trying to peel the moon and expose it
With his businesslike anger and his bloodhounds that kneel
If he needs a third eye he just grows it
He just needs you to talk or to hand him his chalk
Or pick it up after he throws it

Can you please crawl out your window?
How can you say he will haunt you?
You can go back to him any time you want to

Why does he look so righteous while your face is so changed
Are you frightened of the box you keep him in
While his genocide fools and his friends rearrange
Their religion of the little tin women
That backs up their views but your face is so bruised
Come on out the dark is beginning

Can you please crawl out your window?
How can you say he will haunt you?
You can go back to him any time you want to

Copyright © 1965, 1966 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1993, 1994 by Special Rider Music

This bitter earth

This bitter earth
Well, what fruit it bears
What good is love
That no one shares

And if my life is like the dust
That hides the glow of a rose
What good am I
Heaven only knows

Lord, this bitter earth
Yes, can be so cold
Today you're young
Too soon, you're old

But while a voice within me cries
I'm sure someone may answer my call
And this bitter earth
Ooh, may not, oh, be so bitter after all

The War is Over

Silent soldiers on a silver screen
Framed in fantasies and dragged in dream
Unpaid actors of the mystery
The mad director knows that freedom will not make you free
And what's this got to do with me

I declare the war is over
It's over, it's over

Drums are drizzling on a grain of sand
Fading rhythms of a fading land
Prove your courage in the proud parade
Trust your leaders where mistakes are almost never made
And they're afraid that I'm afraid

I'm afraid the war is over
It's over, it's over

Angry artists painting angry signs
Use their vision just to blind the blind
Poisoned players of a grizzly game
One is guilty and the other gets to point the blame
Pardon me if I refrain

I declare the war is over
It's over, it's over

So do your duty, boys, and join with pride
Serve your country in her suicide
Find the flags so you can wave goodbye
But just before the end even treason might be worth a try
This country is to young to die

I declare the war is over
It's over, it's over

One-legged veterans will greet the dawn
And they're whistling marches as they mow the lawn
And the gargoyles only sit and grieve
The gypsy fortune teller told me that we'd been deceived
You only are what you believe

I believe the war is over
It's over, it's over

-Phil Ochs

Dear Mrs Roosevelt

C C7
1. Dear Missis Roosevelt, don't hang your head and cry.
F C
His mortal clay is laid away, but his good work fills the sky
E G G7 C
this world was lucky to see him born.
C C7
2. He's born in a money family on that Hudson's rocky shore,
F C
outrun every kid a-growin' up 'round Hyde Park just for fun,
E G G7 C
this world was lucky to see him born.
C C7
3. He went away to grade school and wrote back to his folks,
F C
he drew such funny pictures and always pulling a joke,
E G G7 C
this world was lucky to see him born.
C C7
4. He went on up towards Harvard, he read his books of law,
F C
he loved his trees and horses, loved everything he saw,
E G G7 C
this world was lucky to see him born.
C C7
5. He got struck down by fever and it settled in his leg,
F C
he loved the folks that wished him well as everybody did,
E G G7 C
this world was lucky to see him born.
C C7
6. He took his office on a crippled leg, he said to one and all:
F C
"You money changin' racket boys have sure 'nuff got to fall!"
E G G7 C
This world was lucky to see him born.
C C7
7. In Senate walls and Congress halls he used his gift of tongue,
F C
to get you thieves and liars told and put you on the run,
E G G7 C
this world was lucky to see him born.





C C7
8. I voted for him for lots o' jobs, I'd vote his name again,
F C
he tried to find an honest job for every idle man,
E G G7 C
this world was lucky to see him born.
C C7
9. He helped to build my union hall, he learned me how to talk,
F C
I could see he was a cripple but he learned my soul to walk,
E G G7 C
this world was lucky to see him born.
C C7
10. You Nazis and you fascists tried to boss this world by hate,
F C
he fought my war the union way and the hate gang all got beat,
E G G7 C
this world was lucky to see him born.
C C7
11. I sent him 'cross that ocean to Yalta and to Tehran,
F C
he didn't like Churchill very much and told him man to man,
E G G7 C
this world was lucky to see him born.

C C7
12. He said he didn't like De Gaulle, nor no Chiang Kai Shek,
F C
shook hands with Joseph Stalin, says: "There's a man I like!"
E G G7 C
This world was lucky to see him born.
C C7
13. I was torpedoed on my merchant ship the day he took command,
F C
he was hated by my captain, but loved by all ships hands,
E G G7 C
this world was lucky to see him born.
C C7
14. I was a Gl in my army camp that day he passed away,
F C
and over my shoulder talkin' I could hear some soldier say:
E G G7 C
“This world was lucky to see him born”.
C C7
15. I guess this world was lucky just to see him born,
F C
I know this world was lucky just to see him born,
E G G7 C
this world was lucky to see him born.

(orig. = capo 4th) (Woody Guthrie)

Vigilante Man

Have you seen that vigilante man?
Have you seen that vigilante man?
Have you seen that vigilante man?
I been hearin' his name all over the land.

Well, what is a vigilante man?
Tell me, what is a vigilante man?
Has he got a gun and a club in his hand?
Is that is a vigilante man?

Rainy night down in the engine house,
Sleepin' just as still as a mouse,
Man come along an' he chased us out in the rain.
Was that a vigilante man?

Stormy days we passed the time away,
Sleepin' in some good warm place.
Man come along an' we give him a little race.
Was that a vigilante man?

Preacher Casey was just a workin' man,
And he said, "Unite all you working men."
Killed him in the river some strange man.
Was that a vigilante man?

Oh, why does a vigilante man,
Why does a vigilante man
Carry that sawed-off shot-gun in his hand?
Would he shoot his brother and sister down?

I rambled 'round from town to town,
I rambled 'round from town to town,
And they herded us around like a wild herd of cattle.
Was that the vigilante men?

Have you seen that vigilante man?
Have you seen that vigilante man?
I've heard his name all over this land.


WOODY GUTHRIE

(gospel sound)
River of ****,
River of ****,
Flow on, flow on, river of ****,
Right from my toes,
On up to my nose,
Flow on, flow on, river of ****.

(transition to Rock)
I've been swimming In this river of ****,
More than 20 years, and I'm getting tired of it,
Don't like swimming, hope it'll soon run dry,
Got to go on swimming, cause I don't want to die.


(spoken with gospel sound in background):
Who dealt this mess, anyway?
Yea, it's an old card player's term,
but sometimes you can use the old switcheroo and it can be applied to ...
To uncle's politics
What I mean is ...
Who was it that set up a system,
supposedly democratic system,
Where you end up always voting for the lesser of two evils?
I mean, Was George Washington the lesser of two evils?
Sometimes I wonder ...
You got some guy that says
"For God sake, we've got to stop having violence in this country."
While he's spending 16,000 dollars a second snuffing ----s.

(gospel sound musical ending with:
A wiiiiiiiiiiiiide, big brown river, yea, bring in the health, wealth, and prosperity to every man, women, and child.

A Bunch of Lonesome and Quarrelsome Heroes
Leonard Cohen

A bunch of lonesome and very quarrelsome heroes
Were smoking out along the open road;
The night was very dark and thick between them
Each man beneath his ordinary load
"I'd like to tell my story,"
Said one of them so young and bold
"I'd like to tell my story
Before I turn into gold."

But no one really could hear him
The night so dark and thick and green;
Well I guess that these heroes must always live there
Where you and I have only been
Put out your cigarette, my love
You've been alone too long;
And some of us are very hungry now
To hear what it is you've done that was so wrong

I sing this for the crickets
I sing this for the army
I sing this for your children
And for all who do not need me
"I'd like to tell my story,"
Said one of them so bold
"Oh yes, I'd like to tell my story
Cause you know I feel I'm turning into gold."

Brown Skin Girl

Ev'rything to keep me from sleepin' A lot of sailor boys they were leavin' And everybody there were jumpin' To hear the sailor boys in our chorus singin' Brown skin girl stay home and mind baby Brown skin girl stay home and mind baby I'm goin away, in a sailing boat And if I don't come back Stay home and mind baby Now de Americans made an invasion We thought it was a help to the island Until they left from here on vacation They left de native boy home to mind their children Brown skin girl stay home and mind baby Brown skin girl stay home and mind baby I'm goin away, in a sailing boat And if I don't come back Stay home and mind baby Now I tell you de story 'bout Millie Well she made a nice blue-eyed baby And dey say she fancy the mother But the blue-eyed baby ain't know she father Brown skin girl stay home and mind baby Brown skin girl stay home and mind baby I'm goin away, in a sailing boat And if I don't come back Stay home and mind baby Now de Americans all have their pleasure While the music played to their leisure Everybody there they were jumpin' To hear the sailor boys in our chorus singin' Brown skin girl stay home and mind baby Brown skin girl stay home and mind baby I'm goin' away, in a sailing boat And if I don't come back Stay home and mind baby

The Wicked Messenger
WRITTEN BY: BOB DYLAN

There was a wicked messenger

From Eli he did come

With a mind that multiplied the smallest matter

When questioned who had sent for him

He answered with his thumb

For his tongue it could not speak, but only blather

He stayed behind the assembly hall

It was there he made his bed

Oftentimes he could be seen returning

Until one day he just appeared

With a note in his hand which read

“The soles of my feet, I swear they’re burning”



Oh, the leaves began to fallin’

And the seas began to part

And the people that confronted him were many

And he was told but these few words

Which opened up his heart

“If ye cannot bring good news, then don’t bring any”

Copyright © 1968 by Dwarf Music; renewed 1996 by Dwarf

My Country Tis of Thy People They're Dying


Now that your big eyes have finally opened
Now that you're wondering how must they feel
Meaning them that you've chased across America's movie screens
Now that you're wondering "how can it be real?"
That the ones you've called colourful, noble and proud
In your school propaganda
They starve in their splendor?
You've asked for my comment I simply will render

My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

Now that the longhouses breed superstition
You force us to send our toddlers away
To your schools where they're taught to despise their traditions.
Forbid them their languages, then further say
That American history really began
When Columbus set sail out of Europe, then stress
That the nation of leeches that conquered this land
Are the biggest and bravest and boldest and best.
And yet where in your history books is the tale
Of the genocide basic to this country's birth,
Of the preachers who lied, how the Bill of Rights failed,
How a nation of patriots returned to their earth?
And where will it tell of the Liberty Bell
As it rang with a thud
O'er Kinzua mud
And of brave Uncle Sam in Alaska this year?

My country 'tis of thy people you're dying

Hear how the bargain was made for the West:
With her shivering children in zero degrees,
Blankets for your land, so the treaties attest,
Oh well, blankets for land is a bargain indeed,
And the blankets were those Uncle Sam had collected
From smallpox-diseased dying soldiers that day.
And the tribes were wiped out and the history books censored,
A hundred years of your statesmen have felt it's better this way.
And yet a few of the conquered have somehow survived,
Their blood runs the redder though genes have paled.
From the Grand Canyon's caverns to craven sad hills
The wounded, the losers, the robbed sing their tale.
From Los Angeles County to upstate New York
The white nation fattens while others grow lean;
Oh the tricked and evicted they know what I mean.

My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

The past it just crumbled, the future just threatens;
Our life blood shut up in your chemical tanks.
And now here you come, bill of sale in your hands
And surprise in your eyes that we're lacking in thanks
For the blessings of civilization you've brought us,
The lessons you've taught us, the ruin you've wrought us
Oh see what our trust in America's brought us.

My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

Now that the pride of the sires receives charity,
Now that we're harmless and safe behind laws,
Now that my life's to be known as yourheritage,
Now that even the graves have been robbed,
Now that our own chosen way is a novelty
Hands on our hearts we salute you your victory,
Choke on your blue white and scarlet hypocrisy
Pitying the blindness that you've never seen
That the eagles of war whose wings lent you glory
They were never no more than carrion crows,
Pushed the wrens from their nest, stole their eggs, changed their story;
The mockingbird sings it, it's all that he knows.
"Ah what can I do?" say a powerless few
With a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye
Can't you see that their poverty's profiting you.

My country 'tis of thy people you're dying.

SONGWRITER
SAINTE-MARIE, BUFFY

Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues


When you’re lost in the rain in Juarez

And it’s Eastertime too

And your gravity fails

And negativity don’t pull you through

Don’t put on any airs

When you’re down on Rue Morgue Avenue

They got some hungry women there

And they really make a mess outta you



Now if you see Saint Annie

Please tell her thanks a lot

I cannot move

My fingers are all in a knot

I don’t have the strength

To get up and take another shot

And my best friend, my doctor

Won’t even say what it is I’ve got



Sweet Melinda

The peasants call her the goddess of gloom

She speaks good English

And she invites you up into her room

And you’re so kind

And careful not to go to her too soon

And she takes your voice

And leaves you howling at the moon



Up on Housing Project Hill

It’s either fortune or fame

You must pick up one or the other

Though neither of them are to be what they claim

If you’re lookin’ to get silly

You better go back to from where you came

Because the cops don’t need you

And man they expect the same



Now all the authorities

They just stand around and boast

How they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms

Into leaving his post

And picking up Angel who

Just arrived here from the coast

Who looked so fine at first

But left looking just like a ghost



I started out on burgundy

But soon hit the harder stuff

Everybody said they’d stand behind me

When the game got rough

But the joke was on me

There was nobody even there to bluff

I’m going back to New York City

I do believe I’ve had enough

Copyright © 1965 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1993 by Special Rider Music

Joe Hill

Joe Hill come over from Sweden's shore
Looking for some work to do
And the Statue of Liberty waved him by
As Joe come a sailing through, Joe Hill
As Joe come a sailing through.
Oh his clothes were coarse and his hopes were high
As he headed for the promised land
And it took a few weeks on the out-of-work streets
Before he began to understand
Before he began to understand
And Joe got hired by a bowery bar
sweeping up the saloon
As his rag would sail over the barroom rail
Sounded like he whistled on a tune
You could almost hear him whistling on a tune
And Joe rolled on from job to job
From the docks to the railroad line
And no matter how hungry the hand that wrote
In his letters he was always doing fine
In his letters he was always doing fine
Oh, the years went by like the sun goin' down
slowly turn the page
And when Joe looked back at the sweat upon his tracks
He had nothing to show but his age
He had nothing to show but his age
So he headed out for the California shore
There things were just as bad
So he joined the Industrial Workers of the World
'Cause, The union was the only friend he had
'Cause, The union was the only friend he had
Now the strikes were bloody and the strikes were black
as hard as they were long
In the dark of night Joe would stay awake and write
In the morning he would raise them with a song
In the morning he would raise them with a song
And he wrote his words to the tunes of the day
To be passed along the union vine
And the strikes were led and the songs were spread
And Joe Hill was always on the line
Yes Joe Hill was always on the line
Now in Salt Lake City a murder was made
There was hardly a clue to find
Oh, the proof was poor, but the sheriff was sure
Joe was the killer of the crime
That Joe was the killer of the crime
Joe raised his hands but they shot him down
he had nothing but guilt to give
It's a doctor I need and they left him to bleed
He made it 'cause he had the will to live
Yes, He made it 'cause he had the will to live
Then the trial was held in a building of wood
And there the killer would be named
And the days weighed more than the cold copper ore
Cause he feared that he was being framed
Cause he found out that he was being framed
Oh, strange are the ways of western law
Strange are the ways of fate
For the government crawled to the mine owner's call
That the judge was appointed by the state
Yes, The judge was appointed by the state
Oh, Utah justice can be had
But not for a union man
And Joe was warned by summer early morn
That there'd be one less singer in the land
There'd be one less singer in the land
Now William Spry was Governor Spry
And a life was his to hold
On the last appeal, fell a governor's tear
May the lord have mercy on your soul
May the lord have mercy on your soul
Even President Wilson held up the day
But even he would fail
For nobody heard the soul searching words
Of the soul in the Salt Lake City jail
Of the soul in the Salt Lake City jail
For 36 years he lived out his days
And he more than played his part
For his songs that he made, he was carefully paid
With a rifle bullet buried in his heart
With a rifle bullet buried in his heart
Yes, they lined Joe Hill up against the wall
Blindfold over his eyes
It's the life of a rebel that he chose to live
It's the death of a rebel that he died
It's the death of a rebel that he died
Now some say Joe was guilty as charged
And some say he wasn't even there
And I guess nobody will ever know
'Cause the court records all disappeared
'Cause the court records all disappeared
Say wherever you go in this fair land
In every union hall
In the dusty dark these words are marked
In between all the cracks upon the wall
In between all the cracks upon the wall
It's the very last line that Joe Hill wrote
When he knew that his days were through
"Boys, this is my last and final will
Good luck to all of you
Good luck to all of you"

Phil Ochs

"A Change Is Gonna Come"
Sam Cooke

I was born by the river in a little tent
Oh, and just like the river I've been running ever since

It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gon' come, oh yes it will

It's been too hard living, but I'm afraid to die
'Cause I don't know what's up there beyond the sky

It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gon' come, oh yes it will

I go to the movie and I go down town
Somebody keep telling me don't hang around

It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gon' come, oh yes it will

Then I go to my brother
And I say, "Brother, help me please."
But he winds up knockin' me
Back down on my knees

There been times that I thought I couldn't last for long
But now I think I'm able to carry on

It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gon' come, oh yes it will

"Oxford Town"

Oxford Town, Oxford Town
Ev'rybody's got their heads bowed down
The sun don't shine above the ground
Ain't a-goin' down to Oxford Town.

He went down to Oxford Town
Guns and clubs followed him down
All because his face was brown
Better get away from Oxford Town.

Oxford Town around the bend
He comes to the door, he couln't get in
All because of the color of his skin
What do you think about that, my frien' ?

Me and my gal, my gal's son
We got met with a tear gas bomb
I don't even know why we come
Goin' back where we come from.

Oxford Town in the afternoon
Ev'rybody singin' a sorrowful tune
Two men died 'neath the Mississippi moon
Somebody better investigate soon.

Bob Dylan

CIA Man

Who can kill a general in his bed?
Overthrow dictators if they're Red?
*******-a man!
(*******-A! C-I-A!)

CIA Man!

Who can find a counter-agent quick?
Especially the ones, themselves, of it?
*******-a man!
(*******-A! C-I-A!)

CIA Man!


Who can plan a riot in Vietnam?
Who can have the troops restore the calm?
*******-a man!
(*******-A! C-I-A!)

CIA Man!


Who can buy a government so cheap?
Change a cabinet without a squeak?
*******-a man!
(*******-A! C-I-A!)

CIA Man!

Who can get a budget that's so great?
Who will be the 51st state?
*******-a man!
(*******-A! C-I-A!)

CIA Man!


Who has got the secret-est Service?
The one that makes the other service nervous?
*******-a man!
(*******-A! C-I-A!)

CIA Man!

Who can cypher anything with zeros?
Not well known, but simply worth the heros.
*******-a man!
(*******-A! C-I-A!)

CIA Man!

Who can take the sugar from its sack
Pour in LSD and put it back?
*******-a man!
(*******-A! C-I-A!)

CIA Man!

Who can squash republics like bananas?
Simply if they do not like their social manners?
*******-a man!
(*******-A! C-I-A!)

CIA Man!

Who can train guerrillas by the dozens?
Send them out to kill their untrained cousins?
*******-a man!
(*******-A! C-I-A!)

CIA Man!

Who can mine the harbors Nicaragua?
Out hit all the hitmen of Chicag-ua.
*******-a man!
(*******-A! C-I-A!)

CIA Man!


Who can be so overtly covert?
Sometimes even covertly overt.
*******-a man!
(*******-A! C-I-A!)

CIA Man!


Who's the agency well-known to God?
The one that copped his staff and copped his rod?
*******-a man! CIA Man!
*******-a man! CIA Man!
*******-a man! CIA Man!
CIA Man! CIA Man!
CIA Man! CIA Man!
CIA Man!

C I A

Deportee
(aka. "Plane Wreck at Los Gatos")
Words by Woody Guthrie, Music by Martin Hoffman

The crops are all in and the peaches are rott'ning,
The oranges piled in their creosote dumps;
They're flying 'em back to the Mexican border
To pay all their money to wade back again

Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye, Rosalita,
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria;
You won't have your names when you ride the big airplane,
All they will call you will be "deportees"

My father's own father, he waded that river,
They took all the money he made in his life;
My brothers and sisters come working the fruit trees,
And they rode the truck till they took down and died.

Some of us are illegal, and some are not wanted,
Our work contract's out and we have to move on;
Six hundred miles to that Mexican border,
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.

We died in your hills, we died in your deserts,
We died in your valleys and died on your plains.
We died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushes,
Both sides of the river, we died just the same.

The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon,
A fireball of lightning, and shook all our hills,
Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry leaves?
The radio says, "They are just deportees"

Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards?
Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit?
To fall like dry leaves to rot on my topsoil
And be called by no name except "deportees"?