(Tales of Yankee Power) - Bob Dylan
can you tell me where we're headin'
Lincoln county road or Armageddon
Seems like i been down this way before
Is there any truth in that, señor?
Señor, señor, do you know where she's hidin'?
How long are we gonna be ridin'?
How long must i keep my eyes glue to the door
Will there be any comfort there, señor?
There's a wicked wind still blowin' on that upper deck
There's an iron cross hangin' down from around the neck
There's a marchin' band still playin' in that vacant lot
Where she held me in her arms one time an' said ``Forget me not''.
Señor, señor, i can see that painted wagon
Smell the tail of the dragon
Can't stand the suspense anymore
Can you tell me who to contact there, señor?
Well the last thing i remember before i stripped an' kneeled
Was a trainload of fools bogged down in a magnetic field
A gypsy with a broken flag an' a flashing ring
He said ``Son, this ain't a dream no more, it's the real thing''.
Señor, señor, you know their heart is as hard as leather
Well give me a minute, let me get it together
Just gotta pick myself up off the floor
I'm ready when you are, señor.
Señor, señor, let's overturn these tables
Disconnect these cables
This place don't make sense to me no more
Can you tell me what we're waitin' for, señor?