All Along the Watchtower (исполнитель: Bob Dylan & The Gratefull Dead)

"There must be some kind of way out of here," 
Said the joker to the thief, 
"There's too much confusion, 
I can't get no relief. 
Businessman they drink my wine, 
Plowman dig my earth 
None will level on the line, nobody offered his word, hey" 

"No reason to get excited," 
The thief, he kindly spoke 
"There are many here among us 
Who feel that life is but a joke 
But you and I, we've been through that 
And this is not our fate 
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late" 

All along the watchtower 
Princes kept the view 
While all the women came and went 
Barefoot servants, too 

Outside in the cold distance 
wildcat did growl 
Two riders were approaching 
And the wind began to howl
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Bob Dylan & The Gratefull Dead - All Along the Watchtower?
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