Bob Dylan - Ballad Of A Thin Man Lyrics
You walk into the roomWith your pencil in your handYou see somebody *****And you say, who is that man?You try so hardBut you dont understandJust what youll sayWhen you get homeBecause something is happening hereBut you dont know what it isDo you, mister jones?You raise up your headAnd you ask, is this where it is?And somebody points to you and saysIts hisAnd you say, whats mine?And somebody else says, where what is?And you say, oh my godAm I here all alone?Because something is happening hereBut you dont know what it isDo you, mister jones?You hand in your ticketAnd you go watch the geekWho immediately walks up to youWhen he hears you speakAnd says, how does it feelTo be such a freak?And you say, impossibleAs he hands you a boneBecause something is happening hereBut you dont know what it isDo you, mister jones?You have many contactsAmong the lumberjacksTo get you factsWhen someone attacks your imaginationBut nobody has any respectAnyway they already expect youTo just give a checkTo tax-deductible charity organizationsYouve been with the professorsAnd theyve all liked your looksWith great lawyers you haveDiscussed lepers and crooksYouve been through all ofF. scott fitzgeralds booksYoure very well readIts well knownBecause something is happening hereBut you dont know what it isDo you, mister jones?Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to youAnd then he kneelsHe crosses himselfAnd then he clicks his high heelsAnd without further noticeHe asks you how it feelsAnd he says, here is your throat backThanks for the loanBecause something is happening hereBut you dont know what it isDo you, mister jones?Now you see this one-eyed midgetShouting the word nowAnd you say, for what reason?And he says, how?And you say, what does this mean?And he screams back, youre a cowGive me some milkOr else go homeBecause something is happening hereBut you dont know what it isDo you, mister jones?Well, you walk into the roomLike a camel and then you frownYou put your eyes in your pocketAnd your nose on the groundThere ought to be a lawAgainst you comin aroundYou should be madeTo wear earphonesBecause something is happening hereBut you dont know what it isDo you, mister jones?
