Get Your Rocks Off | The Official Bob Dylan Site
 
 
 

Get Your Rocks Off por Bob Dylan

Lyrics

You know, there’s two ol’ maids layin’ in the bed
One picked herself up an’ the other one, she said:
“Get your rocks off!
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me! (Get ’em off!)”

Well, you know, there late one night up on Blueberry Hill
One man turned to the other man and said, with a blood-curdlin’ chill, he said:
“Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me! (Get ’em off!)”

Well, you know, we was layin’ down around Mink Muscle Creek
One man said to the other man, he began to speak, he said:
“Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me! (Get ’em off!)”

Well, you know, we was cruisin’ down the highway in a Greyhound bus
All kinds-a children in the side road, they was hollerin’ at us, sayin’:
“Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get ’em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me!”

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