All Along the Watchtower (Bob Dylan)


"There must be some way out of here," cried the joker to the thief
There's too much confusion here, I can't get no relief
Businessmen they drink my wine, plowmen take my earth
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth

"No reason to get excited," the thief he kindly spoke
There are many here among us who feel life is but a joke
But you and I, we've been through that, this is not our fate
Let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late

All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
Barefoot servants came and went, and little children too
Outside in the cold distance, a wild cat did growl
Two riders were approaching him, and the wind began to howl