Santa Fé | The Official Bob Dylan Site
 
 
 

Santa Fé

Lyrics

Santa Fe, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe
My woman needs it ev’ryday
She promised this a-lad she’d stay
She’s rollin’ up a lotta bread to toss away

She’s in Santa Fe, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe
Now she’s opened up an old maid’s home
She’s proud, but she needs to roam
She’s gonna write herself a roadside poem about Santa Fe

Santa Fe, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe
Since I’m never gonna cease to roam
I’m never, ever far from home
But I’ll build a geodesic dome and sail away

Don’t feel bad, no, no, no, no, don’t feel bad
It’s the best food I’ve ever had
Makes me feel so glad
That she’s cooking in a homemade pad
She never caught a cold so bad when I’m away

Santa Fe, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe
My shrimp boat’s in the bay
I won’t have my nature this way
And I’m leanin’ on the wheel each day to drift away from

Santa Fe, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe
My sister looks good at home
She’s lickin’ on an ice cream cone
She’s packin’ her big white comb
What does it weigh?