Оригинален текст
Got the Bob Dylan blues
And the Bob Dylan Shoes
And my clothes and my hairs in a mess
But you know I just couldnt care less
Goin to write me a song
Bout whats right and whats wrong
Bout god and my god and all that
Quiet while I make like a cat
Chorus:
Cause Im a poet
Dont ya know it
And the wind, you can blow it
Cause Im Mr. Dylan, the king
And Im free as a bird on the wing
Roam from town to town
Guess I get people down
But I dont care too much about that
Cause my gut and my wallet are fat
Make a whole lotta dough
But I deserve it though
Ive got soul and a good heart of gold
So Ill sing about war in the cold
Chorus (see above):
Well I sing about dreams
And I rhymes it with seems
Cause it seems that my dream always means
That I can prophesy all kinds of things
Well the guy that digs me
Should try hard to see
That he buys all my discs and a hat
And when Im in town go see that
Chorus (see above):