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Motorpsycho Nightmare

Bob Dylan

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Motorpsycho Nightmare

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I pounded on a farmhouseLookin' 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 stepsFeelin' most alone.Well, out comes a farmer,He must have thought that I was nuts.He immediately looked at meAnd stuck a gun into my guts.I fell downTo my bended knees,Saying, "I dig farmers,Don't shoot me, please!"He cocked his rifleAnd began to shout,"You're that travelin' salesmanThat I have heard about."I said, "No! No! No!I'm a doctor and it's true,I'm a clean-cut kidAnd I been to college, too."Then in comes his daughterWhose name was Rita.She looked like she stepped out ofLa Dolce Vita.I immediately tried to cool itWith her dad,And told him what aNice, pretty farm he had.He said, "What do doctorsKnow about farms, pray tell?"I said, "I was bornAt the bottom of a wishing well."Well, by the dirt 'neath my nailsI guess he knew I wouldn't lie."I guess you're tired,"He said, kinda sly.I said, "Yes, ten thousand milesToday I drove."He said, "I got a bed for youUnderneath the stove.Just one conditionAnd you go to sleep right now,That you don't touch my daughterAnd in the morning, milk the cow."I was sleepin' like a ratWhen I heard something jerkin'.There stood RitaLookin' 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 splitBut I didn't know how,When she said,"Would you like to take that shower, now?"Well, I couldn't leaveUnless the old man chased me out,'Cause I'd already promisedThat I'd milk his cows.I had to say somethingTo strike him very weird,So I yelled out,"I like Fidel Castro and his beard."Rita looked offendedBut she got out of the way,As he came charging down the stairsSayin', "What's that I heard you say?"I said, "I like Fidel Castro,I think you heard me right,"And ducked as he swungAt 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 meIf I don't get out the doorIn two seconds flat,"You unpatriotic, Rotten doctor Commie rat."Well, he threw a Reader's DigestAt my head and I did run,I did a somersaultAs I seen him get his gunAnd crashed through the windowAt a hundred miles an hour,And landed fully blastIn his garden flowers.Rita said, "Come back!"As he started to loadThe sun was comin' upAnd I was runnin' down the road.Well, I don't figure I'll be backThere for a spell,Even though Rita moved awayAnd got a job in a motel.He still waits for me,Constant, on the sly.He wants to turn me inTo the F.B.I.Me, I romp and stomp,Thankful as I romp,Without freedom of speech,I might be in the swamp.
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