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All Along the Watchtower
by Bob Dylan



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
Business men they drink my wine
Plowmen dig my earth
None will level on the vine
Nobody of it is worth

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 stop talking falsely now
The hour's getting late

All along the watchtower
The princess kept a view
While other women came and went,
barefoot servants, too.

Outside in the cold distance
A wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl
---
Lyrics submitted by Bill McGuire.