I Shall Be Free | The Official Bob Dylan Site
 
 
 

I Shall Be Free por Bob Dylan

Lyrics

Well, I took me a woman late last night
I’s three-fourths drunk, she looked uptight
She took off her wheel, took off her bell
Took off her wig, said, “How do I smell?"
I hot-footed it . . . bare-naked . . .
Out the window!

Well, sometimes I might get drunk
Walk like a duck and stomp like a skunk
Don’t hurt me none, don’t hurt my pride
’Cause I got my little lady right by my side
(Right there
Proud as can be)

I’s out there paintin’ on the old woodshed
When a can a black paint it fell on my head
I went down to scrub and rub
But I had to sit in back of the tub
(Cost a quarter
And I had to get out quick . . .
Someone wanted to come in and take a sauna)

Well, my telephone rang it would not stop
It’s President Kennedy callin’ me up
He said, “My friend, Bob, what do we need to make the country grow?”
I said, “My friend, John, Brigitte Bardot
Anita Ekberg
Sophia Loren”
(Put ’em all in the same room with Ernest Borgnine!)

Well, I got a woman sleeps on a cot
She yells and hollers and squeals a lot
Licks my face and tickles my ear
Bends me over and buys me beer
(She’s a honeymooner
A June crooner
A spoon feeder
And a natural leader)

Oh, there ain’t no use in me workin’ so heavy
I got a woman who works on the levee
Pumping that water up to her neck
Every week she sends me a monthly check
(She’s a humdinger
Folk singer
Dead ringer
For a thing-a-muh jigger)

Late one day in the middle of the week
Eyes were closed I was half asleep
I chased me a woman up the hill
Right in the middle of an air-raid drill
It was Little Bo Peep!
(I jumped a fallout shelter
I jumped a bean stalk
I jumped a Ferris wheel)

Now, the man on the stand he wants my vote
He’s a-runnin’ for office on the ballot note
He’s out there preachin’ in front of the steeple
Tellin’ me he loves all kinds-a people
(He’s eatin’ bagels
He’s eatin’ pizza
He’s eatin’ chitlins
He’s eatin’ bullshit!)

Oh, set me down on a television floor
I’ll flip the channel to number four
Out of the shower comes a grown-up man
With a bottle of hair oil in his hand
(It’s that greasy kid stuff
What I want to know, Mr. Football Man, is
What do you do about Willy Mays and Yul Brynner
Charles de Gaulle
And Robert Louis Stevenson?)

Well, the funniest woman I ever seen
Was the great-granddaughter of Mr. Clean
She takes about fifteen baths a day
Wants me to grow a cigar on my face
(She’s a little bit heavy!)

Well, ask me why I’m drunk alla time
It levels my head and eases my mind
I just walk along and stroll and sing
I see better days and I do better things
(I catch dinosaurs
I make love to Elizabeth Taylor . . .
Catch hell from Richard Burton!)