paroles de chanson Tombstone Blues - Alternate Chambers Brothers Version - Bob Dylan
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
And
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
innocence,
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
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
Rainey
and
Beethoven
once
unwrapped
their
bedroll
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
food
I'm
in
the
kitchen
with
the
tombstone
blues,
alright
1 The Groom's Still Waiting at the Altar - Live
2 Like a Rolling Stone - Instrumental
3 Tombstone Blues - Alternate Chambers Brothers Version
4 Michael Speaks About Paul Butterfield
5 One Good Man
6 It's About Time
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