| Dylan Bob
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| Miscellaneous
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| Bob Dylan’s New Orleans Rag
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| by Bob Dylan
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| I was sittin' on a stump
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| Down in New Orleans,
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| I was feelin' kinda low down,
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| Dirty and mean.
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| Along came a fella
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| And he didn’t even ask.
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| He says, «I know of a woman
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| That can fix you up fast.»
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| I didn’t think twice,
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| I said like I should,
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| «Let's go find this lady
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| That can do me some good.»
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| We walked across the river
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| On a sailin' spree
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| And we came to a door
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| Called one-oh-three.
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| I was just about ready
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| To give it a little knock
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| When out comes a fella
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| Who couldn’t even walk.
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| He’s linkin' and a-slinkin',
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| Couldn’t stand on his feet,
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| And he moaned and he groaned
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| And he shuffled down the street.
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| Well, out of the door
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| There comes another man.
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| He wiggled and he wobbled,
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| He couldn’t hardly stand.
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| He had this frightened
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| Look in his eyes,
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| Like he just fought a bear,
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| He was ready to die.
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| Well, I peeked through the key crack,
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| Comin' down the hall
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| Was a long-legged man
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| Who couldn’t hardly crawl.
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| He muttered and he uttered
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| In broken French,
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| And he looked like he’d been through
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| A monkey wrench.
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| Well, by this time
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| I was a-scared to knock,
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| I was a-scared to move,
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| I’s in a state of shock.
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| I hummed a little tune
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| And I shuffled my feet
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| And I started walkin' backwards
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| Down that broad street.
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| Well, I got to the corner,
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| I tried my best to smile.
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| I turned around the corner
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| And I ran a bloody mile.
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| Man, I wasn’t runnin'
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| 'Cause I was sick,
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| I was just a-runnin'
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| To get out of there quick.
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| Well, I tripped right along
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| And I’m a-wheezin' in my chest.
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| I musta run a mile
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| In a minute or less.
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| I walked on a log
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| And I tripped on a stump,
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| I caught a fast freight
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| With a one-arm jump.
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| So, if you’re travelin' down
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| Louisiana way,
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| And you feel kinda lonesome
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| And you need a place to stay,
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| Man, you’re better off
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| In your misery
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| Than to tackle that lady
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| At one-oh-three. |