Bob Dylan's Blues

Well the Lone Ranger and Tonto They are ridin' down the line Fixin' ev'rybody's troubles Ev'rybody's 'cept mine Somebody musta tol' 'em That I was doin' fine Oh you five and ten cent women With nothin' in your heads I got a real gal I'm lovin' And Lord I'll love her till I'm dead Go away from my door and my window too Right now Lord I ain't goin' down to no race track See no sports car run I don't have no sports car And I don't even care to have one I can walk anytime around the block Well the wind keeps a-blowin' me Up and down the street With my hat in my hand And my boots on my feet Watch out so you don't step on me Well lookit here buddy You want to be like me Pull out your six-shooter And rob every bank you can see Tell the judge I said it was all right Yes!