Another Side of Bob Dylan
Album - 8 agosto 1964 - Debaser id 29358

I ain't lookin to compete with you,
Beat or cheat or mistreat you,
Simplify you, classify you.
Deny, defy or crucify you
All I really wanna do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

No, and I ain't lookin to fight with you,
frighten you or uptighten you,
drag you down or drain you down
Chain you down or bring you down
All I really wanna do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

I ain't lookin' to block you up,
shock or knock or lock you up,
Analyze you, categorize you,
Finalize you just advertise you.
All I really wanna do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

I don't want to straight-face you,
Race or chase you, track or trace you,
or disgrace you or displace you,
or define you or confine you
all I really wanna do
Is, baby, be friends with you

I don't want to meet your kin,
Make you spin or do you in,
or select you or disect you,
Or inspect you or reject you.
all I really wanna to do
is, baby, be friends with you

I don't wanna to fake you out,
Take or shake or forsake you out,
I ain't lookin for you to feel like me,
See like me or be like me.
All I really wanna do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

Far between sundown's finish an' midnight's broken toll
We ducked inside a doorway, as thunder went crashing
As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the sounds
Seeming to be the chimes of freedom flashing

Flashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight
Flashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight
An' for each an' ev'ry underdog soldier in the night
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Through the city's melted furnace, unexpectedly we watched
With faces hidden as the walls were tightening
As the echo of the wedding bells before the blowin' rain
Dissolved into the bells of the lightning

Tolling for the rebel, tolling for the rake
Tolling for the luckless, they abandoned an' forsaked
Tolling for the outcast, burnin' constantly at stake
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail
The sky cracked it's poems in naked wonder
That the clinging of the church bells blew far into the breeze
Leaving only bells of lightning and it's thunder

Striking for the gentle, striking for the kind
Striking for the guardians and protectors of the mind
An' the poet and the painter painter far behind his rightful time
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

In the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales
For the disrobed faceless forms of no position
Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts
All down in taken-for-granted situations

Tolling for the deaf an' blind, tolling for the mute
For the mistreated, mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute
For the misdemeanor outlaw, chained an' cheated by pursuit
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Even though a cloud's white curtain in a far-off corner flared
An' the hypnotic spotted mist was slowly lifting
Electric light still struck like arrows, fired but for the ones
Condemned to drift or else be kept from drifting

Tolling for the searching ones, on their speechless, seeking trail
For the lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale
An' for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Starry-eyed an' laughing as I recall when we were caught
Trapped by no track of hours for they hang suspended
As we listened one last time an' we watched with one last look
Spellbound an' swallowed 'til the tolling ended

Tolling for the aching whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an' worse
An' for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Ramona, come closer,
Shut softly your watery eyes.
The pangs of your sadness
Will pass as your senses will rise.
For the flowers of the city
Though breathlike, get deathlike sometimes.
And there's no use in trying
To deal with the dying,
Though I cannot explain that in lines.

Your cracked country lips,
I still wish to kiss,
As to be by the strength of your skin.
Your magnetic movements
Still captures the minutes I'm in.
But it grieves my heart, love,
To see you tryin' to be a part of
A world that just don't exist.
It's all just a dream, babe,
A vacuum, a scheme, babe,
That sucks you into feelin' like this.

I can see that your head
Has been twisted and fed
With worthless foam from the mouth.
I can tell you are torn
Between staying and returning
Back to the South.
You've been fooled into thinking
That the finishing end is at hand.
Yet there's no one to beat you,
No one to defeat you,
'Cept the thoughts of yourself feeling bad.

I've heard you say many times
That you're better than no one
And no one is better than you.
If you really believe that,
You know you have
Nothing to win and nothing to lose.
From fixtures and forces and friends,
Your sorrow does stem,
That hype you and type you,
Making you feel
That you gotta be just like them.

I'd forever talk to you,
But soon my words,
Would turn into a meaningless ring.
For deep in my heart
I know there's no help I can bring.
Everything passes,
Everything changes,
Just do what you think you should do.
And someday maybe,
Who knows, baby,
I'll come and be crying to you.

I pounded on a farmhouse
Lookin' for a place to stay.
I was mighty, mighty tired,
I had gone a long, long way.
I said, "Hey, hey, in there,
Is there anybody home?"
I was standin' on the steps
Feelin' most alone.
Well, out comes a farmer,
He must have thought that I was nuts.
He immediately looked at me
And stuck a gun into my guts.

I fell down
To my bended knees,
Saying, "I dig farmers,
Don't shoot me, please"
He cocked his rifle
And began to shout,
"You're that travelin' salesman
That I have heard about."
I said, "No! No! No!
I'm a doctor and it's true,
I'm a clean-cut kid
And I been to college, too"

Then in comes his daughter
Whose name was Rita.
She looked like she stepped out of
La Dolce Vita.
I immediately tried to cool it
With her dad,
And told him what a
Nice, pretty farm he had.
He said, "What do doctors
Know about farms, pray tell?"
I said, "I was born
At the bottom of a wishing well"

Well, by the dirt 'neath my nails
I guess he knew I wouldn't lie.
"I guess you're tired"
He said, kinda sly.
I said, "Yes, ten thousand miles
Today I drove"
He said, "I got a bed for you
Underneath the stove.
Just one condition
And you go to sleep right now,
That you don't touch my daughter
And in the morning, milk the cow"

I was sleepin' like a rat
When I heard something jerkin'.
There stood Rita
Lookin' just like Tony Perkins.
She said, "Would you like to take a shower?
I'll show you up to the door"
I said, "Oh, no! no!
I've been through this before"
I knew I had to split
But I didn't know how,
When she said,
"Would you like to take that shower, now?"

Well, I couldn't leave
Unless the old man chased me out,
'Cause I'd already promised
That I'd milk his cows.
I had to say something
To strike him very weird,
So I yelled out,
"I like Fidel Castro and his beard"
Rita looked offended
But she got out of the way,
As he came charging down the stairs
Sayin', "What's that I heard you say?"

I said, "I like Fidel Castro,
I think you heard me right,"
And ducked as he swung
At me with all his might.
Rita mumbled something
'Bout her mother on the hill,
As his fist hit the icebox,
He said he's going to kill me
If I don't get out the door
In two seconds flat,
"You unpatriotic, Rotten doctor Commie rat"

Well, he threw a Reader's Digest
At my head and I did run,
I did a somersault
As I seen him get his gun
And crashed through the window
At a hundred miles an hour,
And landed fully blast
In his garden flowers.
Rita said, "Come back"
As he started to load
The sun was comin' up
And I was runnin' down the road.

Well, I don't figure I'll be back
There for a spell,
Even though Rita moved away
And got a job in a motel.
He still waits for me,
Constant, on the sly.
He wants to turn me in
To the F.B.I.
Me, I romp and stomp,
Thankful as I romp,
Without freedom of speech,
I might be in the swamp.