Текст песни California - Bob Dylan

I'm goin' down South
Beneath the borderline
I'm goin' down South
Beneath the borderline
Some fat momma
Kissed my mouth one time
Well, I knew it this morning
Without a shadow of doubt
I knew it this morning
Without a shadow of doubt
My suitcase was packed
My clothes were hangin' out
San Francisco's fine
You sure get lots of sun
San Francisco is fine
You sure get lots of sun
But I'm used to four seasons
California's got but one
Well, I got my dark sunglasses
I got for good luck my black tooth
I got my dark sunglasses
And for good luck I got my black tooth
Don't ask me nothin' about nothin'
I just might tell you the truth