I’m a good ol’ boy, but I’ve been sniffin’ too many eggs, talkin’ to too many people, drinkin’ too many kegs.
I’m a good ol’ boy, but I’ve been sniffin’ too many eggs, talkin’ to too many people, drinkin’ too many kegs.
Oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule, but these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel.
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your mouth, blowing down the back roads headin’ south.
We live in a political world where mercy walks the plank. Life is in mirrors, death disappears up the steps into the nearest bank.
Here comes the story of the Hurricane, the man the authorities came to blame.
Johnny’s in the basement, mixin’ up the medicine. I’m on the pavement, thinkin’ about the government.
How does it feel? To be without a home, like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone.
From whatever position you occupy with regard to the watchtower, this is another classic Dylan album.
Take a freewheelin’ classic folk rock ride with a young artist named Bob Dylan, early ‘60s style.