Текст песни I Shall Be Free No. 10 - Bob Dylan
Now,
I'm
just
average,
common
too
I'm
just
like
him,
the
same
as
you
I'm
everybody's
brother
and
son
I
ain't
different
than
anyone
Ain't
no
use
to
talk
to
me
It's
just
the
same
as
talking
to
you
I
was
shadow-boxing
earlier
in
the
day
I
figured
I
was
ready
for
Cassius
Clay
I
said,
"Fee,
fie,
fo,
fum,
Cassius
Clay,
here
I
come
26,
27,
28,
29,
I'm
gonna
make
your
face
look
just
like
mine
5,
4,
3,
2,
1,
Cassius
Clay,
you
better
run
99,
100,
101,
102,
your
ma
won't
even
recognize
you
14,
15,
16,
17,
18,
19,
gonna
knock
him
clean
right
out
of
his
spleen"
Well,
I
don't
know,
but
I've
been
told
The
streets
of
heaven
are
lined
with
gold
I
ask
you
how
things
could
get
much
worse
If
the
Russians
happen
to
get
up
there
first
Wowee,
pretty
scary
Now,
I'm
liberal,
but
to
a
degree,
I
want
everybody
to
be
free
But
if
you
think
I'll
let
Barry
Goldwater
Move
in
next
door
and
marry
my
daughter
You
must
think
I'm
crazy
I
wouldn't
let
him
do
it
for
all
the
farms
in
Cuba
Well,
I
set
my
monkey
on
the
log
and
ordered
him
to
do
the
Dog
He
wagged
his
tail
and
shook
his
head
And
he
went
and
did
the
Cat
instead
He's
a
weird
monkey,
very
funky
I
sat
with
my
high-heeled
sneakers
on
Waiting
to
play
tennis
in
the
noonday
sun
I
had
my
white
shorts
rolled
up
past
my
waist
And
my
wig-hat
was
falling
in
my
face
But
they
wouldn't
let
me
on
the
tennis
court
I
got
a
woman,
she's
so
mean
She
sticks
my
boots
in
the
washing
machine
Sticks
me
with
buckshot
when
I'm
nude
Puts
bubblegum
in
my
food
She's
funny,
wants
my
money,
calls
me
honey
Now,
I
got
a
friend
who
spends
his
life
Stabbing
my
picture
with
a
bowie-knife
Dreams
of
stranglin'
me
with
a
scarf
When
my
name
comes
up
he
pretends
to
barf
I've
got
a
million
friends
Now,
they
asked
me
to
read
a
poem
at
the
sorority
sister's
home
I
got
knocked
down
and
my
head
was
swimmin'
I
wound
up
with
the
Dean
of
Women
Yippee,
I'm
a
poet,
I
know
it,
hope
I
don't
blow
it
I'm
gonna
grow
my
hair
down
to
my
feet,
so
strange
So
I
look
like
a
walking
mountain
range
And
I'm
gonna
ride
into
Omaha
on
a
horse
Out
to
the
country
club
and
the
golf
course
Carryin'
the
New
York
Times,
shoot
a
few
holes,
blow
their
minds
Well,
you're
probably
wondering
by
now
Just
what
this
song
is
all
about
What's
probably
got
you
baffled
more
is
what
this
thing
here
is
for
It's
nothin',
it's
somethin'
I
learned
over
in
England
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