Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Johnny's in the basement mixin' up the medicine,
I'm on the pavement, thinkin' 'bout the government,
Man in a coonskin cap with a wig on...
Wants 11 dollar bills, but I only got 10

Gonna see Miss Brer Foxhole she's got diamonds in her teeth
She is pure gold down underneath
She's a rock and roll singer and a true dead ringer
For something like you ain't never seen
Once you get it, You can't forget it
W.S. Walcott Medicine Show
W.S. Walcott Medicine Show

She's got rings on her fingers
and bells on her shoes
and i could tell without asking
she was into the blues

Oh, say has anybody seen my sweet Gypsy Rose
Here's her picture when she was my sweet Mary Jo
Now she's got rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
Say has anybody seen my sweet Gypsy Rose

Oh, I got wind my Jo's been dancing here in New Orleans
In this smoke-filled honky-tonk they call the land of dreams
Oh, here she comes a strutting in her birthday clothes
Say has anybody seen my sweet Gypsy Rose

Oh baby, baby, won't you come home
Say we all miss you
And every night we kiss your picture

And the caravan has all my friends
It will stay with me until the end
Gypsy Robin, Sweet Emma Rose
Tell me everything I need to know
La, la, la...

Turn up your radio and let me hear the song
Switch on your electric light
Then we can get down to what is really wrong
I long just to hold you in my arms so that I can feel you
Sweet lady of the night I shall reveal you

Turn it up, turn it up, little bit higher radio
Turn it up, that's enough, so you know it's got soul

I'll learn to work the saxophone
I'll play just what I feel
Drink Scotch whisky all night long
And die behind the wheel
They got a name for the winners in the world
I want a name when I lose
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide
Call me Deacon Blues

And I can see those fighter planes
And I can see those fighter planes
Across the mud huts as children sleep
Through the alleys of a quiet city street.
Up the staircase to the first floor
We turn the key and slowly unlock the door
As a man breathes into his saxophone
And through the walls you hear the city groan.
Outside, is America
Outside, is America
America.

He blesses the boys as they stand in line
The smell of gun grease and the bayonets they shine
He's there to help them all that he can
To make them feel wanted he's a good holy man

Sky pilot.....sky pilot
How high can you fly
You'll never, never, never reach the sky
He smiles at the young soldiers

Two little soldiers, their games are such fun,
each with his helmet and little toy gun,
Soon they will lie on some battlefield dead
'stead of tucked away safe in their bed.

All you little soldiers, if only you knew,
what kind of battles are waiting for you.

Wait until the war is over
And we're both a little older
The unknown soldier

Breakfast where the news is read
Television children fed
Unborn living, living, dead
Bullet strikes the helmet's head

And it's all over
For the unknown soldier
It's all over
For the unknown soldier

Some mother's son lies in a field
Someone has killed some mother's son today
Head blown up by some soldier's gun
While all the mothers stand and wait
Some mother's son ain't coming home today
Some mothers son ain't got no grave

Two soldiers fighting in a trench
One soldier glances up to see the sun
And dreams of games he played when he was young
And then his friend calls out his name
It stops his dream and as he turns his head
A second later he is dead