All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
All the tired horses in the sun
How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm
Bob Dylan - Self Portrait Album Lyrics
Bob Dylan - Self Portrait Lyrics
- All The Tired Horses
- Alberta #1
- I Forgot More Than Youll Ever Know
- Days Of 49
- Early Mornin Rain
- In Search Of Little Sadie
- Let It Be Me
- Little Sadie
- Woogie Boogie
- Belle Isle
- Living The Blues
- Like A Rolling Stone
- Copper Kettle
- Gotta Travel On
- Blue Moon
- The Boxer
- Quinn The Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn)
- Take Me As I Am
- Take A Message To Mary
- It Hurts Me Too
- Minstrel Boy
- She Belongs To Me
- Wigwam
- Alberta #2
Writer: Bob Dylan
Copyright: Lyrics © AUDIAM, INC
Copyright: Lyrics © AUDIAM, INC
Alberta #1
Alberta let your hair hang low
Alberta let your hair hang low
I'll give you more gold
Than your apron can hold
If you'd only let your hair hang low
Alberta what's on your mind
Alberta what's on your mind
You keep me worried and bothered
All of the time
Alberta what's on your mind
Alberta don't you treat me unkind
Alberta don't you treat me unkind
Oh my heart is so sad
Cause I want you so bad
Alberta don't you treat me unkind
Alberta let your hair hang low
Alberta let your hair hang low
I'll give you more gold
Than your apron can hold
If you'll only let your hair hang low
Alberta let your hair hang low
I'll give you more gold
Than your apron can hold
If you'd only let your hair hang low
Alberta what's on your mind
Alberta what's on your mind
You keep me worried and bothered
All of the time
Alberta what's on your mind
Alberta don't you treat me unkind
Alberta don't you treat me unkind
Oh my heart is so sad
Cause I want you so bad
Alberta don't you treat me unkind
Alberta let your hair hang low
Alberta let your hair hang low
I'll give you more gold
Than your apron can hold
If you'll only let your hair hang low
Writer: Bob Dylan
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
I Forgot More Than Youll Ever Know
I forgot more than you'll ever know about her.
You think you know the smile on her lips
The thrill and the touch of her fingertips
But I forgot more than you'll ever know about her.
You think you'll find heaven of bliss
In each caress, in each tender kiss
But I forgot more than you'll ever know about her.
You stole her love from me one day
You didn't care, oh, it hurt me
But you can never steal away memories of what used to be.
You think she's yours, to have and to hold
Someday you'll learn, when her love grows cold
But I forgot more than you'll ever know about her.
You think you know the smile on her lips
The thrill and the touch of her fingertips
But I forgot more than you'll ever know about her.
You think you'll find heaven of bliss
In each caress, in each tender kiss
But I forgot more than you'll ever know about her.
You stole her love from me one day
You didn't care, oh, it hurt me
But you can never steal away memories of what used to be.
You think she's yours, to have and to hold
Someday you'll learn, when her love grows cold
But I forgot more than you'll ever know about her.
Writer: CECIL ALLEN NULL
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Days Of 49
I'm old Tom Moore from the bummer's shore in that good old golden days
They call me a bummer and a ginsot too, but what cares I for praise ?
I wander around from town to town just like a roving sign
And all the people say, "There goes Tom Moore, in the days of '49"
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
My comrades they all loved me well, a jolly saucy crew
A few hard cases I will recall though they all were brave and true
Whatever the pitch they never would flinch, they never would fret or whine
Like good old bricks they stood the kicks in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
There was New York Jake, the butcher boy, he was always getting tight
And every time that he'd get full he was spoiling for a fight
But Jake rampaged against a knife in the hands of old Bob Stein
And over Jake they held a wake in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
There was Poker Bill, one of the boys who was always in a game
Whether he lost or whether he won, to him it was always the same
He would ante up and draw his cards and he would you go a hatful blind
In the game with death Bill lost his breath, in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
There was Ragshag Bill from Buffalo, I never will forget
He would roar all day and he'd roar all night and I guess he's roaring yet
One day he fell in a prospect hole, in a roaring bad design
And in that hole he roared out his soul, in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
Of the comrades all that I've had, there's none that's left to boast
And I'm left alone in my misery like some poor wandering ghost
And I pass by from town to town, they call me a rambling sign
"There goes Tom Moore, a bummer shore in the days of '49 "
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
They call me a bummer and a ginsot too, but what cares I for praise ?
I wander around from town to town just like a roving sign
And all the people say, "There goes Tom Moore, in the days of '49"
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
My comrades they all loved me well, a jolly saucy crew
A few hard cases I will recall though they all were brave and true
Whatever the pitch they never would flinch, they never would fret or whine
Like good old bricks they stood the kicks in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
There was New York Jake, the butcher boy, he was always getting tight
And every time that he'd get full he was spoiling for a fight
But Jake rampaged against a knife in the hands of old Bob Stein
And over Jake they held a wake in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
There was Poker Bill, one of the boys who was always in a game
Whether he lost or whether he won, to him it was always the same
He would ante up and draw his cards and he would you go a hatful blind
In the game with death Bill lost his breath, in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
There was Ragshag Bill from Buffalo, I never will forget
He would roar all day and he'd roar all night and I guess he's roaring yet
One day he fell in a prospect hole, in a roaring bad design
And in that hole he roared out his soul, in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
Of the comrades all that I've had, there's none that's left to boast
And I'm left alone in my misery like some poor wandering ghost
And I pass by from town to town, they call me a rambling sign
"There goes Tom Moore, a bummer shore in the days of '49 "
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
Writer: TRADITIONAL, BOB DYLAN
Copyright: Lyrics © T.R.O. INC.
Copyright: Lyrics © T.R.O. INC.
Early Mornin Rain
In the early morning rain with a dollar in my hand
And an aching in my heart and my pockets full of sand
I'm a long way from home and I miss my loved one so
In the early morning rain with nowhere to go.
And an aching in my heart and my pockets full of sand
I'm a long way from home and I miss my loved one so
In the early morning rain with nowhere to go.
Cut on runway number nine, big 707 set to go
I'm stuck here on the ground, where the cold winds blow
The liquor tasted good and the women all were fast
There she goes, my friend, she's rolling down at last.
Hear the mighty engines roar, see the silver bird on high
She's away and westward bound, far above the clouds she'll fly
Where the morning rain don't fall and the sun always shines
She'll be flying over my home in about three hours time.
This old airport's got me down, it's no earthly good to me
Because I'm stuck here on the ground, cold and drunks as I might be
You can't hop a jet plane like you can a freight train
So I'd best be on my way in the early morning rain.
Writer: GORDON LIGHTFOOT
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
In Search Of Little Sadie
Went out last night just to take a little round
I get my little Sadie and I brought her down
I run right home and I went to bed
With a forty-four smokeless under my head.
I get my little Sadie and I brought her down
I run right home and I went to bed
With a forty-four smokeless under my head.
I begin to think of what a deed I'd done
I grabbed my hat and I began to run
I made a good run but I ran too slow
They overtake me down in Jericho.
Standing on a corner as he's ringing my bell
Up stepped the sherrif of Thomasville
He said, "Young man, is you name Brown ?
Remember you blowed little Sadie down ?".
"Oh yes sir, my name is Lee
I murdered little Sadie in first degree"
"First degree and second degree
If you've got any papers, will you serve 'em to me ?".
Well they took me downtown and they dressed me in black
They put me on a train and they sent me back
I had no one for to go my bail
They crammed me back into the crowded jail
Oh yes they did.
The judge and the jury they took their stand
The judge had the papers in his right hand
Forty-one days, forty-one nights, forty-one years
To wear the ball and the stripes
Oh no.
I went out last night to take a little round
I met my little Sadie and I blowed her down
I run right home and I went to bed
With a forty-four smokeless under my head.
Writer: BOB DYLAN
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, AUDIAM, INC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, AUDIAM, INC
Let It Be Me
I bless the day I found you
I want my arms around you
And so I beg you: Let it be me.
Don't take this heaven from one
If you must cling someone
Now and forever, let it be me.
Each time we meet, love
I find complete love
Without your sweet love, what would life be ?
So never leave me lonely
Tell me that you love me only
And say you'll always let it be me.
I want my arms around you
And so I beg you: Let it be me.
Don't take this heaven from one
If you must cling someone
Now and forever, let it be me.
Each time we meet, love
I find complete love
Without your sweet love, what would life be ?
So never leave me lonely
Tell me that you love me only
And say you'll always let it be me.
Writer: Gilbert Becaud, Pierre Delanoe, Manny Curtis
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Little Sadie
Went out last night just to take a little round
I get my little Sadie and I brought her down
I run right home and I went to bed
With a forty-four smokeless under my head.
I get my little Sadie and I brought her down
I run right home and I went to bed
With a forty-four smokeless under my head.
Went out last night just to take a little round
I get my little Sadie and I brought her down
I run right home and I went to bed
With a forty-four smokeless under my head.
I begin to think of what a deed I'd done
I grabbed my hat and I began to run
I made a good run but I ran too slow
They overtake me down in Jericho.
Standing on a corner as he's ringing my bell
Up stepped the sherrif of Thomasville
He said, "Young man, is you name Brown ?
Remember you blowed little Sadie down ?".
"Oh yes sir, my name is Lee
I murdered little Sadie in first degree"
"First degree and second degree
If you've got any papers, will you serve 'em to me ?".
Well they took me downtown and they dressed me in black
They put me on a train and they sent me back
I had no one for to go my bail
They crammed me back into the crowded jail
Well, the judge and the jury they took their stand
The judge had the papers in his right hand
Forty-one days, forty-one nights, forty-one years
To wear the ball and the stripes
Writer: BOB DYLAN
Copyright: Lyrics © AUDIAM, INC
Copyright: Lyrics © AUDIAM, INC
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Belle Isle
One evening for pleasure I rambled to view
The fair fields all alone
Down by the banks of Loch Eiron
Where beauty and pleasure were known.
The fair fields all alone
Down by the banks of Loch Eiron
Where beauty and pleasure were known.
I spied a fair maid at her labour
Which caused me to stay for a while
And I thought of a goddess to beauty
Bloomin' bright star of Bright Isle.
I humbled myself to her beauty
"Fair maiden, where do you belong ?
Are you from heaven descended
Abiding in Cupid's fair throne ?".
"Young man, I will tell you a secret
It's true I'm a maid that is poor
And to part from my vows and my promise
Is more than my heart can endure.
Therefore I remain at my service
And go through all my hardship and toil
And wait for the lad that has left me
All alone on the banks of Belle Isle".
"Young maiden I wish not to banter
It's true I come here in disguise
I came here to fulfill our last promise
And hope to give you a surprise.
I've known you're a maid I love dearly
And you've been in my heart all the while
For me there is no other damsel
Than my bloomin' bright star of Belle Isle".
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Living The Blues
Since you've been gone
I've been walking around
With my head bowed down to my shoes
I've been living the blues every night without you.
I've been walking around
With my head bowed down to my shoes
I've been living the blues every night without you.
I don't have to go far
To know where you are
Strangers all give me the news
I've been living the blues every night without you.
I think that it's best
I soon get some rest
And forget my pride, but I can't deny
This feeling that I carry for you deep down inside.
If you'd see me this way
You'd come back and you'd stay
Oh, how could you refuse ?
I've been living the blues every night without you.
I think that it's best
I soon get some rest
And forget my pride, but I can't deny
This feeling that I carry for you deep down inside.
If you'd see me this way
You'd come back and you'd stay
Oh, how could you refuse ?
I've been living the blues every night without you.
Writer: BOB DYLAN
Copyright: Lyrics © BOB DYLAN MUSIC CO
Copyright: Lyrics © BOB DYLAN MUSIC CO
Like A Rolling Stone
Once upon a time you dressed so fine
Threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?
People call say 'beware doll, you're bound to fall'
You thought they were all kidding you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hanging out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't seem so proud
About having to be scrounging your next meal
How does it feel, how does it feel?
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone
Ahh you've gone to the finest schools, alright Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
Nobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street
And now you're gonna have to get used to it
You say you never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And say do you want to make a deal?
How does it feel, how does it feel?
To be on your own, with no direction home
A complete unknown, like a rolling stone
Ah you never turned around to see the frowns
On the jugglers and the clowns when they all did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain't no good
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on a chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain't it hard when you discover that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything he could steal
How does it feel, how does it feel?
To have you on your own, with no direction home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone
Ahh princess on a steeple and all the pretty people
They're all drinking, thinking that they've got it made
Exchanging all precious gifts
But you better take your diamond ring, you better pawn it babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse
When you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You're invisible now, you've got no secrets to conceal
How does it feel, ah how does it feel?
To be on your own, with no direction home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone
Threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?
People call say 'beware doll, you're bound to fall'
You thought they were all kidding you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hanging out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't seem so proud
About having to be scrounging your next meal
How does it feel, how does it feel?
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone
Ahh you've gone to the finest schools, alright Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
Nobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street
And now you're gonna have to get used to it
You say you never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And say do you want to make a deal?
How does it feel, how does it feel?
To be on your own, with no direction home
A complete unknown, like a rolling stone
Ah you never turned around to see the frowns
On the jugglers and the clowns when they all did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain't no good
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on a chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain't it hard when you discover that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything he could steal
How does it feel, how does it feel?
To have you on your own, with no direction home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone
Ahh princess on a steeple and all the pretty people
They're all drinking, thinking that they've got it made
Exchanging all precious gifts
But you better take your diamond ring, you better pawn it babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse
When you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You're invisible now, you've got no secrets to conceal
How does it feel, ah how does it feel?
To be on your own, with no direction home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone
Writer: Bob Dylan
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copper Kettle
Get you a copper kettle, get you a copper coil
Fill it with new made corn mash and never more you'll toil
You'll just lay there by the juniper while the moon is bright
Watch them just a-filling in the pale moonlight.
Fill it with new made corn mash and never more you'll toil
You'll just lay there by the juniper while the moon is bright
Watch them just a-filling in the pale moonlight.
Build you a fire with hickory, hickory, ash and oak
Don't use no green or rotten wood, they'll get you by the smoke
You'll just lay there by the juniper while the moon is bright
Watch them just a-filling in the pale moonlight.
My daddy he made whiskey, my granddaddy he did too
We ain't paid no whiskey tax since 1792
You'll just lay there by the juniper while the moon is bright
Watch them just a-filling in the pale moonlight.
Writer: FRANK A BEDDOE
Copyright: Lyrics © T.R.O. INC.
Copyright: Lyrics © T.R.O. INC.
Gotta Travel On
Done laid around, done stayed around
This old town too long
Summer's almost gone, winter's coming on
Done laid around, done stayed around
This old town too long
And it seems like I've got to travel on
And it seems like I've got to travel on.
This old town too long
Summer's almost gone, winter's coming on
Done laid around, done stayed around
This old town too long
And it seems like I've got to travel on
And it seems like I've got to travel on.
Papa writes to Johnny, "Johnny, can't you come home ?
Johnny, can't you come home ? Johnny, can't you come home ?"
Papa writes to Johnny, "Johnny, can't you come home ?"
Johnny's been out on the road too long
Done laid around, done stayed around
This old town too long
And it seems like I've got to travel on
And it seems like I've got to travel on.
That silly wind will soon begin and I'll be on my way
Going home to stay, going home to stay
That silly wind will soon begin and I'll be on my way
And I feel like I just want to travel on
Done laid around, done stayed around
This old town too long
And it seems like I've got to travel on
And it seems like I've got to travel on.
There's a lonesome freight at 6.08 coming through the town
I'll be homward bound, I'll be homeward bound
There's a lonesome freight at 6.08 coming through the town
And I feel like I just want to travel on
Done laid around, done stayed around
This old town too long
And it seems like I've got to travel on
And it seems like I've got to travel on.
Writer: PAUL CLAYTON
Copyright: Lyrics © THE BICYCLE MUSIC COMPANY
Copyright: Lyrics © THE BICYCLE MUSIC COMPANY
Blue Moon
Blue moon, you saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own.
Without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own.
Blue moon, you knew just what I was there for
You heard me saying a prayet for someone I really could care for.
And suddenly there appeared before me the only one my arms could ever hold
I heard someone whisper, "Please, adore me"
And when I looked my moon had turned to gold.
Blue moon, now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own
Without a love of my own.
Writer: Lorenz Hart, Richard Rodgers
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
The Boxer
I'm just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squadered my resistance
For a pocketful of numbles
Such are promises, all lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.
Though my story's seldom told
I have squadered my resistance
For a pocketful of numbles
Such are promises, all lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.
When I left my home and family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station
Running scared, laying low
Seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know.
Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare
There were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there.
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone, going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me
Leading me
Going home.
In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
And cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still ramains.
Writer: PAUL SIMON
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Quinn The Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn)
Ev'rybody's building the big ships and the boats,
Some are building monuments,
Others, jotting down notes,
Ev'rybody's in despair,
Ev'ry girl and boy
But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here,
Ev'rybody's gonna jump for joy.
Come all without, come all within,
You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn.
I like to do just like the rest, I like my sugar sweet,
But guarding fumes and making haste,
It ain't my cup of meat.
Ev'rybody's 'neath the trees,
Feeding pigeons on a limb
But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here,
All the pigeons gonna run to him.
Come all without, come all within,
You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn.
A cat's meow and a cow's moo, I can recite 'em all,
Just tell me where it hurts yuh, honey,
And I'll tell you who to call.
Nobody can get no sleep,
There's someone on ev'ryone's toes
But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here,
Ev'rybody's gonna wanna doze.
Come all without, come all within,
You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn.
Some are building monuments,
Others, jotting down notes,
Ev'rybody's in despair,
Ev'ry girl and boy
But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here,
Ev'rybody's gonna jump for joy.
Come all without, come all within,
You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn.
I like to do just like the rest, I like my sugar sweet,
But guarding fumes and making haste,
It ain't my cup of meat.
Ev'rybody's 'neath the trees,
Feeding pigeons on a limb
But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here,
All the pigeons gonna run to him.
Come all without, come all within,
You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn.
A cat's meow and a cow's moo, I can recite 'em all,
Just tell me where it hurts yuh, honey,
And I'll tell you who to call.
Nobody can get no sleep,
There's someone on ev'ryone's toes
But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here,
Ev'rybody's gonna wanna doze.
Come all without, come all within,
You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn.
Writer: BOB DYLAN
Copyright: Lyrics © BOB DYLAN MUSIC CO
Copyright: Lyrics © BOB DYLAN MUSIC CO
Take Me As I Am
Why must you always try to make me over ?
Take me as I am or let me go
White lilies never grow on stalks of clover
Take me as I am or let me go.
Take me as I am or let me go
White lilies never grow on stalks of clover
Take me as I am or let me go.
You're trying to reshape me in a moment
In the image of someone you used to know
I won't be a stand-in for an old love
Take me as I am or let me go.
You've tried to change me ever since you've met me
Take me as I am or let me go.
If you cannot overlook my faults, forget me
Take me as I am or let me go.
You're trying to reshape me in a mould love
In the image of someone you used to know
But I won't be a stand-in for an old love
Take me as I am or let me go.
Writer: CARLY SIMON, MIKE MAINIERI, SID MCGINNIS
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Take A Message To Mary
These are the words of a frontier man
Who lost his love when he turned bad.
Who lost his love when he turned bad.
Take a message to Mary
But don't tell here where I am
Take a message to Mary
But don't say I'm in a jam
You can tell her that I had to see the world
Tell her that my ship set sail
You can say she'd better not wait for me
But don't tell her I'm in jail, oh don't tell her I'm in jail.
Take a message to Mary
But don't tell her what I've done
Please, don't mention the stage coach
And the shot from a carried gun
You better tell her that I had to change my plans
And cancel out the wedding-day
But please, don't mention the lonely cell
Where I'm gonna pine away, until my dying-day.
Take a message to Mary
But don't tell her all you know
My heart is aching for Mary
Lord know I miss her so
Just tell her that I went to Timbukto
Tell her I'm searching for gold
You can say she better find someone new
To cherish and to hold, oh Lord, this cell is so cold.
Writer: BOUDLEAUX BRYANT, FELICE BRYANT
Copyright: Lyrics © HOUSE OF BRYANT PUBLICATIONS
Copyright: Lyrics © HOUSE OF BRYANT PUBLICATIONS
It Hurts Me Too
So run here baby, put your little hands in mine
I've got something to tell you
I know you're gonna change your mind
When things go wrong, so wrong with you
It hurts me too.
I've got something to tell you
I know you're gonna change your mind
When things go wrong, so wrong with you
It hurts me too.
I want you, baby, just to understand
I don't wanna be your boss, baby
I just wanna be your man
When things go wrong, so wrong with you
It hurts me too.
Now when you go home, you don't have to get along
Come back to me, baby
Where I live that's where you belong
When things go wrong, so wrong with you
It hurts me too.
I love you baby, and you know that it's true
I wouldn't mistreat you, baby
Nothing in this world is like you
Yes, when things go wrong, so wrong with you
It hurts me too
When things go wrong, so wrong with you
It hurts me too.
So run here baby, put your little hands in mine
I've got something to tell you, baby
I know you're gonna change your mind
When things go wrong, so wrong with you
Don't you know, really, don't you know it hurts me too.
Writer: BOB DYLAN
Copyright: Lyrics © BOB DYLAN MUSIC CO
Copyright: Lyrics © BOB DYLAN MUSIC CO
Minstrel Boy
Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin ?
Who's gonna let it roll ?
Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin ?
Who's gonna let it down easy to save his soul ?
Who's gonna let it roll ?
Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin ?
Who's gonna let it down easy to save his soul ?
Oh look, he's driving a long, long time
There he still sits on top of the hill
Well aching and jumping with all laid down
With all of them ladies you know he's lonely still
Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin ?
Who's gonna let it roll ?
Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin ?
Who's gonna let it down easy to save his soul ?
Well knee deep in number, heavy in toil
Mighty mockingbird he still has such a heavy load
Beneath his boundaries but more if I can tell
With all of these travelling but I'm still on that road
Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin ?
Who's gonna let it roll ?
Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin ?
Who's gonna let it down easy to save his soul ?
Writer: BOB DYLAN
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, AUDIAM, INC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, AUDIAM, INC
She Belongs To Me
She's got everything she needs, she's an artist
She don't look back
She's got everything she needs, she's an artist
She don't look back
She can take the dark out of the nighttime
And paint the daytime black
You will start out standing
Proud to steal her anything she sees
You will start out standing
Proud to steal her anything she sees
But you will wind up peeking through her keyhole
Down upon your knees
She never stumbles, she's got no place to fall
She never stumbles, she's got no place to fall
She's nobody's child, the law can't touch her at all
She wears an Egyptian ring, it sparkles before she speaks
She wears an Egyptian ring, it sparkles before she speaks
She's a hypnotist collector, you are a walking antique
Bow down to her on Sunday
Salute her when her birthday comes
Bow down to her on Sunday
Salute her when her birthday comes
For Halloween, buy her a trumpet
And for Christmas, get her a drum
She don't look back
She's got everything she needs, she's an artist
She don't look back
She can take the dark out of the nighttime
And paint the daytime black
You will start out standing
Proud to steal her anything she sees
You will start out standing
Proud to steal her anything she sees
But you will wind up peeking through her keyhole
Down upon your knees
She never stumbles, she's got no place to fall
She never stumbles, she's got no place to fall
She's nobody's child, the law can't touch her at all
She wears an Egyptian ring, it sparkles before she speaks
She wears an Egyptian ring, it sparkles before she speaks
She's a hypnotist collector, you are a walking antique
Bow down to her on Sunday
Salute her when her birthday comes
Bow down to her on Sunday
Salute her when her birthday comes
For Halloween, buy her a trumpet
And for Christmas, get her a drum
Writer: Bob Dylan
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Alberta #2
Alberta let your hair hang low
Alberta let your hair hang low
I'll give you more gold
Than your apron can hold
If you'd only let your hair hang low
Alberta what's on your mind
Alberta what's on your mind
You keep me worried and bothered
All of the time
Alberta what's on your mind
Alberta don't you treat me unkind
Alberta don't you treat me unkind
Oh my heart is so sad
Cause I want you so bad
Alberta don't you treat me unkind
Alberta let your hair hang low
Alberta let your hair hang low
I'll give you more gold
Than your apron can hold
If you'll only let your hair hang low
Alberta let your hair hang low
I'll give you more gold
Than your apron can hold
If you'd only let your hair hang low
Alberta what's on your mind
Alberta what's on your mind
You keep me worried and bothered
All of the time
Alberta what's on your mind
Alberta don't you treat me unkind
Alberta don't you treat me unkind
Oh my heart is so sad
Cause I want you so bad
Alberta don't you treat me unkind
Alberta let your hair hang low
Alberta let your hair hang low
I'll give you more gold
Than your apron can hold
If you'll only let your hair hang low
Writer: Bob Dylan
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Self Portrait is the tenth studio album by the American singer-songwriter Bob Dylan, released on June 8, 1970, by Columbia Records.
Self Portrait was Dylan's second double album (after Blonde on Blonde), and features many cover versions of well-known pop and folk songs. Also included are a handful of instrumentals and original compositions. Most of the album is sung in the affected country crooning voice that Dylan had introduced a year earlier on Nashville Skyline. Seen by some as intentionally surreal and even satirical at times, Self Portrait received extremely poor reviews.
Dylan has stated in interviews that Self Portrait was something of a joke, far below the standards he set in the 1960s, and was made to end the "spokesman of a generation" label that critics had put on him.
Despite the negative critical reception, the album quickly went gold in the US, where it hit No. 4, and was also a UK No. 1 hit. The album saw a retrospective positive re-evaluation with the release of The Bootleg Series Vol. 10: Another Self Portrait (1969-1971) in 2013.
Performed By:
Bob DylanSelf Portrait was Dylan's second double album (after Blonde on Blonde), and features many cover versions of well-known pop and folk songs. Also included are a handful of instrumentals and original compositions. Most of the album is sung in the affected country crooning voice that Dylan had introduced a year earlier on Nashville Skyline. Seen by some as intentionally surreal and even satirical at times, Self Portrait received extremely poor reviews.
Dylan has stated in interviews that Self Portrait was something of a joke, far below the standards he set in the 1960s, and was made to end the "spokesman of a generation" label that critics had put on him.
Despite the negative critical reception, the album quickly went gold in the US, where it hit No. 4, and was also a UK No. 1 hit. The album saw a retrospective positive re-evaluation with the release of The Bootleg Series Vol. 10: Another Self Portrait (1969-1971) in 2013.
Genre(s): Folk rock, blues rock, country rock
Length: Length 73:15
Released: June 8th, 1970
Year: 1970