Tombstone Blues
Bob Dylan"Tombstone Blues" is a song by Bob Dylan, released in 1965 in the Pop genre. The song is 5:38 long and contains 84 lines and 573 words.
Lyrics
0:12The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course
0:15The city fathers they're trying to endorse
0:20The reincarnation of Paul Revere's horse
0:23But the town has no need to be nervous
0:29The ghost of Belle Starr she hands down her wits
0:33To Jezebel the nun she violently knits
0:36A bald wig for Jack the Ripper who sits
0:40At the head of the chamber of commerce
0:46Mama's in the fact'ry
0:47She ain't got no shoes
0:49Daddy's in the alley
0:50He's lookin' for the fuse
0:53I'm in the streets
0:54With the tombstone blues
1:03The hysterical bride in the penny arcade
1:08Screaming she moans "I've just been made"
1:13Then sends out for the doctor who pulls down the shade
1:15Says "My advice is to not let the boys in"
1:21Now the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside
1:25He walks with a swagger and he says to the bride
1:29"Stop all this weeping swallow your pride
1:33You will not die it's not poison"
1:37Mama's in the fact'ry
1:38She ain't got no shoes
1:41Daddy's in the alley
1:42He's lookin' for the fuse
1:45I'm in the streets
1:46With the tombstone blues
1:59Well John the Baptist after torturing a thief
2:03Looks up at his hero the Commander-in-Chief
2:07Saying "Tell me great hero but please make it brief
2:10Is there a hole for me to get sick in "
2:15The Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly
2:19Saying "Death to all those who would whimper and cry"
2:23And dropping a bar bell he points to the sky
2:27Saving "The sun's not yellow it's chicken"
2:32Mama's in the fact'ry
2:33She ain't got no shoes
2:35Daddy's in the alley
2:37He's lookin' for the fuse
2:40I'm in the streets
2:41With the tombstone blues
2:50The king of the Philistines his soldiers to save
2:53Put jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves
2:57Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the slaves
3:01Then sends them out to the jungle
3:08Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch he burns out their camps
3:12With his faithful slave Pedro behind him he tramps
3:16With a fantastic collection of stamps
3:20To win friends and influence his uncle
3:25Mama's in the fact'ry
3:26She ain't got no shoes
3:29Daddy's in the alley
3:30He's lookin' for the fuse
3:33I'm in the streets
3:34With the tombstone blues
3:49The geometry of innocence flesh on the bone
3:53Causes Galileo's math book to get thrown
3:57At Delilah who sits worthlessly alone
4:00But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter
4:08Now I wish I could give Brother Bill his great thrill
4:12I would set him in chains at the top of the hill
4:16Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B DeMille
4:20He could die happily ever after
4:24Mama's in the fact'ry
4:25She ain't got no shoes
4:28Daddy's in the alley
4:29He's lookin' for the fuse
4:32I'm in the streets
4:33With the tombstone blues
4:55Where Ma Raney and Beethoven once unwrapped their bed roll
4:59Tuba players now rehearse around the flagpole
5:02And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps for the soul
5:06To the old folks home and the college
5:13Now I wish I could write you a melody so plain
5:17That could hold you dear lady from going insane
5:21That could ease you and cool you and cease the pain
5:24Of your useless and pointless knowledge
5:29Mama's in the fact'ry
5:31She ain't got no shoes
5:33Daddy's in the alley
5:34He's lookin' for the fuse
5:37I'm in the streets
5:38With the 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
Translation
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