Capo 2nd fret

Standard (EADGBE)

Once upon a time you dressed so fine

 You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?

People'd call, say, "Beware doll, you're bound to fall"

 You thought they were all a-kiddin' you

You used to laugh about

Everybody that was hangin' out

Now you don't talk so loud

Now you don't seem so proud

 About having to be scrounging for your next meal.

 How does it feel

 How does it feel

 To be without a home

 Like a complete unknown

 Like a rolling stone?

You've gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely

But you know you only used to get juiced in it

And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street

And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it

You said you'd never compromise

With the mystery tramp, but now you realize

He's not selling any alibis

As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes

And say do you want to make a deal?

How does it feel

How does it feel

To be on your own

With no direction home

Like a complete unknown

Like a rolling stone?

You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns

When they all come down and did tricks for you

You never understood that it ain't no good

You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you

You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat

Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat

Ain't it hard when you discover that

He really wasn't where it's at

After he took from you everything he could steal.

How does it feel

How does it feel

To be on your own

With no direction home

Like a complete unknown

Like a rolling stone?

Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people

They're drinkin', thinkin' that they got it made

Exchanging all precious gifts

But you'd better take your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it babe

You used to be so amused

At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used

Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse

When you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose

You're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.

How does it feel

How does it feel

To be on your own

With no direction home

Like a complete unknown

Like a rolling stone?

 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 factory

 She ain't got no shoes

Daddy's in the alley

 He's lookin' for food

I'm in the kitchen

 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 factory

She ain't got no shoes

Daddy's in the alley

He's lookin' for food

I'm in the kitchen

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

Saying, "The sun's not yellow it's chicken"

Mama's in the factory

She ain't got no shoes

Daddy's in the alley

He's lookin' for food

I'm in the kitchen

With the tombstone blues

The king of the Philistines his soldiers to save

Puts 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 factory

She ain't got no shoes

Daddy's in the alley

He's lookin' for food

I'm in trouble

With the tombstone blues

The geometry of innocent flesh on the bone

Causes Galileo's math book to get thrown

At Delilah who's sitting 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 factory

She ain't got no shoes

Daddy's in the alley

He's lookin' for food

I'm in the kitchen

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 factory

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

To play the song correctly you have to play the following pattern

througout most of the song (shuffle style!)

. . . .

"Riff"

Well, I ride on a mailtrain, baby,

"Riff"

Can't buy a thrill.

"Riff"

Well, I've been up all night,

"Riff"

Leanin' on the window sill.

 Well, if I die

 On top of the hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilllllllll

"Riff"

And if I don't make it,

"Riff"

You know my baby will.

Don't the moon look good, mama,

Shinin' through the trees?

Don't the brakeman look good, mama,

Flagging down the Double E?

Don't the sun look good

Goin' down over the sea?

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.

Well, 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.

I got this graveyard woman, you know she keeps my kid

But my soulful mama, you know she keeps me hid

She's a junkyard angel and she always gives 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 I'm lost on the river bridge

I'm cracked up on the highway and on the water's edge

She comes down the thruway 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 too much

She walks like Bo Diddley and she don't need no crutch

She keeps this four-ten all loaded with lead

Well, if I go down dyin', you know she bound to put a blanket on my bed.

Well, you know I need a steam shovel mama to keep away the dead

I need a dump truck mama to unload my head

She brings me everything and more, and just like I said

Well, if I go down dyin', you know she bound to put a blanket on my bed.

Intro

You walk into the room

/g#

With your pencil in your hand

 You see somebody naked

/[f#]

And you say, "Who is that man?"

You try so hard

 But you don't understand

Just what you will say

 When you get home

 Because something is happening here

 But you don't know what it is

"intro"

Do you, Mister Jones?

You raise up your head

And you ask, "Is this where it is?"

And somebody points to you and says

"It's his"

And you say, "What's mine?"

And somebody else says, "Where what is?"

And you say, "Oh my God

Am I here all alone?"

Because something is happening here

But you don't know what it is

Do you, Mister Jones?

You hand in your ticket

And you go watch the geek

Who immediately walks up to you

When he hears you speak

And says, "How does it feel

To be such a freak?"

And you say, "Impossible"

As he hands you a bone

Because 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 just give a check

 To tax-deductible charity organizations

You've been with the professors

And they've all liked your looks

With great lawyers you have

Discussed lepers and crooks

You've been through all of

F. Scott Fitzgerald's books

You're very well read

It's well known

Because something is happening here

But you don't know what it is

Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you

And then he kneels

He crosses himself

And then 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"

Because something is happening here

But you don't know what it is

Do you, Mister Jones?

Now you see this one-eyed midget

Shouting 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"

Because something is happening here

But you don't 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 ought to be a law

Against you comin' around

You should be made

To wear earphones

Because something is happening here

But you don't know what it is

Do you, Mister Jones?

 When your mother sends back all your invitations

 And your father to your sister he explains

  / /[b]

That you're tired of yourself and all of your creations

Won't you come see me, Queen Jane?

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 advisers 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 bandits that you turned your 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?

 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.

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 outa 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 ynd 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 call my bluff

I'm going back to New York City I do believe I've had enough

: 032010 : 033010 (/C): 003211 (/D): 220003

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