All Along the Watchtower
Bob Dylan 1968
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“There must be some way out of here,”
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Said the joker to the thief,
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“There’s too much confusion,
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I can’t get no relief.”
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“Businessmen, they drink my wine,
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Plowmen dig my earth.
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None of them along the line
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Know what any of it is worth.”
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“No reason to get excited,”
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The thief, he kindly spoke,
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“There are many here among us
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Who feel that life is but a joke.
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But you and I, we’ve been through that,
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And this is not our fate,
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So let us not talk falsely now,
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The hour is getting late.”
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All along the watchtower,
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Princes kept the view,
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While all the women came and went,
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Barefoot servants, too.
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Outside in the distance,
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A wildcat did growl,
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Two riders were approaching,
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The wind began to howl.