Highway 61 Revisted:  Lyrics

TOMBSTONE BLUES

The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course
The city fathers they're trying to endorse
The reincarnation of Paul Revere's 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

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues

The hysterical bride in the penny arcade
Screaming she moans, "I've just been made"
Then sends out for the doctor who pulls down the shade
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, it's not poison"

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
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 bar bell he points to the sky
Saving, "The sun's not yellow it's chicken"

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues

The king of the Philistines his soldiers to save
Put jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves
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

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues

The geometry of innocence flesh on the bone
Causes Galileo's math book to get thrown
At Delilah who sits 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

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues

Where Ma Raney and Beethoven once unwrapped their bed roll
Tuba players now rehearse around the flagpole
And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps for the soul
To the old folks home and the college

Now I wish I could write you a melody so plain
That could hold you dear lady from going insane
That could ease you and cool you and cease the pain
Of your useless and pointless knowledge

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for the fuse
I'm in the streets
With the tombstone blues.

It takes a lot to laugh, it takes a train to cry

Well, I ride on a mail train, baby, can't buy a thrill
I been up all night, leanin' on the window sill
Well, if I die on top of the hill
Well, if I don't make it mama, you know my baby will

Don't the moon look good mama, shinin' through the trees
Don't the brakemen look good mama, flaggin' down the double E's
Don't the sun look good goin' down over the sea
But don't my gal look fine when she's comin' after me

Now the wintertime is coming, the windows are filled with frost
I went to tell everybody, but I could not get across
I wanna be your lover baby, I don't wanna be your boss
Don't say I never warned you when your train gets lost.

Ballad of a thin man

You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked and you say "who is that man?"
You try so hard but you just don't understand
Just what you will say when you get home
Because something is happening here
And you don't know what it is, do you, Mister Jones

You raise up your head and you ask "is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says "its his"
And you say "what's mine?" and somebody else says "well WHAT is"
And you say "oh my god - am i here all alone?"
But something is happening here
And you don't know what it is, do you, Mister Jones

You hand in you ticket and you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you when he hears you speak
Saying "how does it feel to be such a freak?"
And you say "impossible" as he hands you a bone
And something is happening here
But you don't know what it is, do you, Mister Jones

You have many contacts among the lumberjacks
To get you facts when someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect, anyway they already expect you
To all give a check to tax-deductable charity organizations

You've been with the professors, and they all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks
You've read all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well read, its well known
But something is happening here
And you don't know what it is, do you, Mister Jones

Well, the swordswallower comes up to you and then he kneels
He crosses himself and he clicks his high heels
And without further notice he asks you how it feels
And he says "here is your throat back, thanks for the loan"
And you know something is happening
But you don't know what it is, do you, Mister Jones

Now you see this one-eyed midget saying the word "now"
And you say "for what reason?" and he says "how?"
And you say "what does this mean?" and he screams back "you're a cow!
Give me some milk - or else go home!"
And you KNOW somethings happening here
But you dont know what it is, do you, Mister Jones

Well, you walk into the room like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket and your nose on the ground
There oughtta be a law against you coming around
You should be made to wear earphones
Cause something is happening here
And you don't know what it is, do you, Mister Jones.

FROM A BUICK 6

I got this graveyard woman, ya know she keeps my kids
But my soulful mama, y know she keeps me hid
She's a junkyard angel and she always brings me bread
Well if I go down dyin' you know she bound to put a blanket on my bed

Well when the pipeline gets broken and uh lost on the river bridge
I'm all cracked up on the highway and in the water's edge
Look it she comes down the throughway ready to sew me up with thread
Well if I go down dyin' you know she bound to put a blanket on my bed

Well she don't make me nervous, she don't talk to much
She walks like Bo Diddley and she don't need no crutch
She keeps this 4-10 all loaded with lead
Well if I go down dyin' you know she bound to put a blanket on my bed

Come on ...
solo

Well ya know I need a steam shovel mama to keep away the dead
I need a dump truck baby to unload my head
She brings me everything and more, ain't it just like I said
Well if I go down dyin' you know she bound to put a blanket on my bed.

JUST LIKE TOM THUMB'S BLUES

When you're lost in the rain, in Juarez, and it's Eastertime too
When 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've got some hungry women there and they'll really make a mess out of you

If you see Saint Annie, please tell her thanks a lot
I cannot maove and my fingers, they are all in a knot
I don't have the strength to get up and take another shot
And my best, my doctor, won't even say what it is that 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 one or the other, though neither fo them ought to be what they claim
And if you're lookin' to get silly, you better go back to from where you came
Cause 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 one me, there was nobody there to even bluff
I'm going back to New York City, I do believe I've had enough.

QUEEN JANE APPROXIMATELY

When your mother sends back all of your invitations
Dm9 Em F G7
And your father to your sister, he explains
C F C Am
That you're tired of yourself and all of your creations
C F C F
Won't you come see me Queen Jane
C F C
Won't you come see me Queen Jane


Now when all of the flower ladies want back what they have lent you
And the smell of their roses does not remain
And all of your children start to resent you
Won't you come see me Queen Jane
Won't you come see me Queen Jane

Now when all the clowns that you have commissioned
Have died in battle or in vain
And you're sick of all this repetition
Won't you come see me Queen Jane
Won't you come see me Queen Jane

When all of your advisors heave their plastic
At your feet to convince you of your pain
Trying to prove that your conclusions should be more drastic
Won't you come see me Queen Jane
Won't you come see me Queen Jane

Now when all the other bandits that you turned the other cheek to
All lay down their bandanas and complain
And you want somebody you don't have to speak to
Won't you come see me Queen Jane
Won't you come see me Queen Jane.

HIGHWAY 61 REVISITED

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
0l' 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 shoe strings
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.

DESOLATION ROW

They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row

Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
"You Belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says," You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row

Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row

Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid

To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row

Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row

Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on His Soul"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row

Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
A perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words

And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get Outa Here If You Don't Know
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row"

Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row

Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting
"Which Side Are You On?"
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row

Yes, I received your letter yesterday
(About the time the door knob broke)
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row.