Another Self Portrait lyrics

MAGGIE'S FARM SITO ITALIANO DI BOB DYLAN
	"ANOTHER SELF PORTRAIT - BOOTLEG SERIES Vol.10" LYRICS
	DISC 1 Went to See the Gypsy (alternate version, New Morning, 3/3/70) Written by Bob Dylan I went to see the gypsy Stayin' in a big hotel He smiled when he saw me comin' An' he wished me well His room was dark and crowded The lights were low and dim. "How are you?'', he asked of me And I asked the same of him I went down to the lobby To make a small call out A pretty dancin' girl was there And she began to shout "Go on back to see the gypsy He can rid you of your fear He did it in Las Vegas And he can do it here.'' Oh, the lights were on the river Shinin’ from outside I contemplated every move Or at least I tried I went back to see the gypsy It was nearly early dawn The gypsy's door was open But the gypsy was gone And that pretty dancin' girl Oh, she could not be found So I watched the sun come rising In a little Minnesota town Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) David Bromberg (guitar) In Search of Little Sadie (without overdubs, Self Portrait, 3/3/70) Traditional, arranged by Bob Dylan Went out last night to take a little round I met little Sadie and I blowed her down I ran right home and I went to bed With a .44 smokeless under my head Went out last night to take a little round I met little Sadie and I blowed her down I ran right home and I went to bed With a .44 smokeless under my head I began to think "What a deed I done?" Grabbed my head and away I've run Made a good run but I ran too slow They overtook me down in Jericho Standin' on the corner ringin' my bell Up stepped sheriff from Thomasville He says "Young man is your name Brown? Remember the night that you blowed little Sadie down." "Oh yes sir my name is Lee I murdered little Sadie in first degree" "First degree and second degree Got any papers will you serve 'em to me." Took me downtown and they dressed me in black They put me on a train and they brought me back Had no one to go my bail They crammed me back into the county jail. Judge and jury they took their stand Judge had the papers in his hand 41 days, 41 nights, 41 years To wear the ball and stripes Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) David Bromberg (guitar) Pretty Saro (unreleased, Self Portrait, 3/3/70) Traditional, arranged by Bob Dylan Down in some lone valley In a sad lonesome place Where the wild birds do warble Their notes to increase Farewell pretty Saro I bid you Adieu But I dream of pretty Saro Wherever I go Well my love she won't have me So I understand She wants a freeholder Who owns a house and land I cannot maintain her With silver and gold And all of the fine things That a big house can hold If I was a poet And could write a fine hand I'd write my love a letter That she'd understand And write it by the river Where the waters overflow But I dream of pretty Saro Wherever I go Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) David Bromberg (guitar) Alberta #3 (alternate version, Self Portrait, 3/5/70) Traditional, arranged by Bob Dylan Alberta let your hair hang low Alberta let your hair hang low I'll give you more gold Than your apron strings can hold If you'd only let your hair hang low. Alberta what's on your mind Alberta what's on your mind You keep me worried and bothered All of the time Alberta what's on your mind. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar, harmonica) David Bromberg (dobro) Al Kooper (piano) Stu Woods (bass) Alvin Rogers (drums) Hilda Harris, Albertine Robinson, Maeretha Stewart (background vocals) Spanish is the Loving Tongue (unreleased, New Morning, 6/2/70) Written by Charles Badger Clark Spanish is the loving tongue, Soft as music, light as spray: 'Twas a girl I learned it from, Living down Sonora way. I don't look much like a lover, Still I hear her love words over, Mostly when I'm all alone, "Mi amor, mi corazón." On the nights that I would ride She would listen for my spurs, Throw that big door open wide, Raise those laughin' eyes of hers; Oh how the night would go a-flyin'! All too soon I'd hear her sighin' In her sweet and quiet tone "Mi amor, mi corazón." Haven’t seen her since that night I can't cross the line, you know. They want me for a gambling fight Like as not, it’s better so Still I always kind of missed her Since that last sad night I kissed her Left her heart, I broke my own "Adios, mi corazón!" Bob Dylan (vocals, piano) Annie's Going to Sing Her Song (unreleased, Self Portrait, 3/4/70) Written by Tom Paxton What's your hurry? Just watch this. This is one you mustn't miss: Annie's going to sing her song, Called "Take Me Back Again." A drink for me, a drink for you; You're going to need a drink or two: Annie's going to sing that song, Called "Take Me Back Again." You never heard it sung before; I hear it twice a month or more, Complete with tears and sheepish grins; It only lacks the violins. The tune goes flat from time to time, The lyric sometimes it fails to rhyme, But Annie's going to sing her song, Called "Take Me Back Again." Sometimes lasts the whole night long, Depends on how long she's been gone, I sit and look as hard as nails; She knows the damn thing never fails. Take the bottle, fill your cup; Don't miss the part where I fold up; Annie's going to sing her song, Called "Take Me Back Again." Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) David Bromberg (guitar) Al Kooper (piano) Time Passes Slowly #1 (alternate version, New Morning, 5/1/70) Written by Bob Dylan Time passes slowly Up here in the mountains We sit beside bridges And walked beside fountains Catch the wild fishes That float thru the stream Times passes slow When you're lost in a dream. Once I had a sweetheart She was fine an' good lookin' We sat in the kitchen While her mama was cookin' Stared out the window To the stars high above Time passes slowly When you're searchin' for love. Ain't no reason to go In the morning to town Ain't no reason to go To the fair Ain't no reason to go up Ain't no reason to go down Ain't no reason to go anywhere. Time passes slowly Up here in the daylight We stared straight ahead And tried so hard to stay right Like a cloud drifting over That covers the day Time passes slowly Then fades away. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) George Harrison (vocals, guitar) Charlie Daniels (bass) Russ Kunkel (drums) Only a Hobo (unreleased, Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Vol. II, 9/1/71) Written by Bob Dylan As I was out walkin' on the corner one day I spied an old hobo in a doorway he lay His face was all grounded in the cold sidewalk floor And I guess he been dead for the whole night or more. Only a hobo but one more is gone Leavin' nobody to sing his sad song Leavin' nobody to carry him home He was only a hobo but one more is gone. Only a hobo but one more is gone A blanket of newspaper covered his head As the step was his pillow, and the street was his bed One look at his face showed the hard road he’d come A fistful of coins showed the money he bummed. Yeah, he was only a hobo but one more is gone Leavin' nobody to sing his sad song Leavin' nobody to carry him home He was only a hobo but one more is gone. Only a hobo but one more is gone Does it take much of a man to see his whole life go down To look up in the world from a hole in the ground To wait for your future like a horse that's gone lame To lie in the gutter an' die with no name. He was only a hobo but one more is gone Leavin' nobody to sing his sad song Leavin' nobody to carry him home He was only a hobo but one more is gone. Only a hobo but one more is gone Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar, harmonica) Happy Traum (background vocals, banjo) Minstrel Boy (unreleased, The Basement Tapes, c. 1967) Written by Bob Dylan Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin? Who's gonna let it down and roll? Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin? Who's gonna throw and all or let him go home? Oh i ain't got baby in this he??? four time ????? i can't tell when he look in down his blues without his ?????? ???????? Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin? Who's gonna let it roll? Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin? Who's gonna throw and ??? or let him go home? Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) Robbie Robertson (guitar) Rick Danko (vocals, bass) Garth Hudson (keyboards) Richard Manuel (vocals, piano) Levon Helm (vocals, drums) I Threw It All Away (alternate version, Nashville Skyline, 2/16/69) Written by Bob Dylan I once held her in my arms She said she would always stay. But I was cruel I treated her like a fool I threw it all away. Once I had mountains in the palm of my hand An' rivers that ran thru everyday. But I must have been mad I never knew what I had Until I threw it all away. Love is all there is It makes the world go round. Love and only love It can't be denied. No matter what you think about it You just won't be able to do without it Take a tip from one who tried. So if you find someone Who gives you all of her love Take it to your heart Don't let it stray. Oh, one thing for certain You will surely be hurtin' If you throw it all away If you throw it all away. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) Bob Wilson (piano) Charlie Daniels (guitar) Charlie McCoy (bass) Norman Blake (guitar) Kelton D. Herston (guitar) Kenneth Buttrey (drums) Railroad Bill (unreleased, Self Portrait, 3/4/70) Traditional, arranged by Bob Dylan Railroad Bill, Railroad Bill He never worked, and he never will, And it's ride, ride, ride. Railroad Bill he was a mighty mean man He shot the midnight lantern out of the brakeman's hand And it's ride, ride, ride. Railroad Bill you know he took my wife, Said if I didn't like it, he would take my life. I'm gonna ride, ride, ride. Goin' up the mountain, goin' out west .38 Spec a-stickin' out of my vest. I’m gonna ride, ride, ride. Buy me a pistol just as long as my arm And shoot anybody who does me any harm. I’m gonna ride, ride, ride. Railroad Bill, Railroad Bill He never worked, and he never will, Ride, ride, ride. Honey honey, honey think that I'm a fool Think I would quit you when the weather is cool Ride, ride, ride. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar, harmonica) David Bromberg (guitar) Al Kooper (piano) Thirsty Boots (unreleased, Self Portrait, 3/4/70) Written by Eric Andersen You've long been on the open road You've been sleepin in the rain From the dirt of words and mud of cell Your clothes are smeared and stained. But the dirty words and muddy cells Will soon be judged insane So only stop and rest yourself Till you are off again. So take off your thirsty boots And stay for a while Your feet are hot and weary From a dusty mile And maybe I can make you laugh And maybe I can try I'm just lookin' for the evening And the morning in your eyes. But tell me of the ones you saw As far as you could see Across the plain from field to town Marching to be free And of the rusted prison gates That tumbled by degree Like laughing children one by one Who looked like you and me Take off your thirsty boots And stay for a while Your feet are hot and weary From a dusty mile And maybe I can make you laugh And maybe I can try I'm just lookin' for the evening And the morning in your eyes. I know you are no stranger down The crooked rainbow trails From dancing cliff-edged shattered sills Of slender shackled jails But the voices drift up from below As the walls are being scaled All of this and more my friend Your song shall not be failed. Then take off your thirsty boots And stay for a while Your feet are hot and weary From a dusty mile And maybe I can make you laugh And maybe I can try I'm just lookin' for the evening And the morning in your eyes. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar, harmonica) David Bromberg (guitar) Al Kooper (piano) This Evening So Soon (unreleased, Self Portrait, 3/4/70) Traditional, arranged by Bob Dylan Tell old Bill, when he comes home this morning, Tell old Bill, when he comes home this evening, Tell old Bill, when he comes home, To leave them down-town girls alone This morning, this evening, so soon. Old Sal was baking bread this morning, Old Sal was baking bread this evening, Old Sal was baking bread When she found out that her Bill was dead This morning, this evening, so soon. She said “Oh no, it can’t be so”, this morning, “Oh no, it can’t be so”, this evening She said “Oh no, it can’t be so, My Bill left home about an hour ago” This morning, this evening, so soon. Well they brought Bill home in a hurry-up wagon this morning, They brought Bill home in a hurry-up wagon this evening, Well you know they brought Bill home in a hurry-up wagon, His arms, his legs, his feet were dragging This morning, this evening, so soon. So soon, so soon, so soon. Tell old Bill, when he comes home this morning, Tell old Bill, when he comes home this evening, Tell old Bill, when he comes home, To leave them down-town girls alone This morning, this evening, so soon. So soon, so soon. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar, harmonica) David Bromberg (guitar) Al Kooper (piano) These Hands (unreleased, Self Portrait, 3/3/70) Written by Eddie Noack These hands aren’t the hands of a gentleman, These hands are calloused and old. But these hands raised a family; These hands built a home. Now these hands raise to pray the Lord. These hands won the heart of my loved one, And with hers they were never alone. If these hands filled their task, Then what more can one ask? For these fingers have worked to the bone. Now don't try to judge me by what you'd like to be, For my life ain't been much success. While some people have power, but still they grieve While these hands brought me happiness. Now I'm tired and I'm old and I ain't got much gold Maybe things ain't been all that I planned. But Lord above, hear my plea, when it's time to take me Take a look at these hard-workin' hands. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) David Bromberg (guitar) In Search of Little Sadie (without overdubs, Self Portrait, 3/4/70) Traditional, arranged by Bob Dylan Went out last night just to take a little round I met my little Sadie and I brought her down I ran right home and I went to bed With a .44 smokeless under my head. I began to think what a deed I done I grabbed my head and I began to run I made a good run but I run too slow They overtook me down in Jericho. Standin’ on the corner as he's ringin' my bell Up stepped the sheriff of Thomasville He says, "Young man is your name Brown? Remember you blowed little Sadie down?'' "Oh, yes sir my name is Lee I murdered little Sadie in first degree'' "First degree and second degree If you got any papers, will you serve them to me.'' Well they took me downtown and they dressed me in black They put me on a train and they sent me back I had no one for to go my bail They crammed me back into the county jail, Oh yes they did. Now the judge and the jury they took their stand The judge had the papers in his right hand Forty-one days, forty-one nights Forty-one years with the ball and stripes, oh no. Went out last night to take a little round I met my little Sadie and I blowed her down I run right home and I went to bed A .44 smokeless under my head. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) David Bromberg (guitar) House Carpenter (unreleased, Self Portrait, 3/4/70) Traditional, arranged by Bob Dylan Well met, well met, my own true love Well met, well met, cried he I've just returned from the salt, salt sea And it's all for the sake of thee I could have married the king's daughter dear And she would have married me Then I have refused the crown of gold And it's all for the sake of thee If you could have married the king's daughter dear I'm sure you are to blame For I am married to the house carpenter And he is a fine young man If you'll forsake your house carpenter And fly away with me I'll take you to where the grass grows green On the banks of the sweet Willie If I forsake my house carpenter And fly away with thee What have you got to maintain me upon And keep me from slavery I've six ships sailing on the salt sea Sailing from dry land And a hundred and twenty jolly young men Shall be at your command She picked up her poor little babe Her kisses were one, two, three And as she trod upon her way And shone like a glittering tree They had not been at sea two weeks I'm sure it was not three When this poor maid began to cry And she wept most bitterly Oh do you weep for your gold, he said Your houses, your land or your store? Or do you weep for your house carpenter The one you’ll never see anymore The one you’ll never see anymore I do not weep for my gold, she said My houses, my land or my store But I do weep for my poor little babe That I never shall see anymore They had not been at sea three weeks I'm sure it was not four When in their ship there sprang a great leak And she sank to rise no more No, she sank to rise no more Farewell farewell, my own true love Farewell farewell, cried she I could have deserted my house carpenter And grave them in the depths of the sea For a grave in the depths of the sea. Well met, well met, my own true love Well met, well met, cried he I've just returned from the salt, salt sea And it's all for the sake of thee Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar, harmonica) David Bromberg (guitar) Al Kooper (piano) All the Tired Horses (without overdubs, Self Portrait, 3/5/70) Written by Bob Dylan All the tired horses in the sun How am I supposed to get any ridin' done.. Bob Dylan (guitar) David Bromberg (guitar) Al Kooper (piano) Hilda Harris, Albertine Robinson, Maeretha Stewart (background vocals) DISC 2 If Not for You (alternate version, New Morning, 6/2/70) Written by Bob Dylan If not for you Babe I couldn't find the door Couldn't even see the floor I'd be sad and blue If not for you. If not for you The night would see me wide awake But it would surely have to break But it would not be new If not for you. If not for you My sky would fall The rain would gather too Without your love I'd be nowhere at all I'd be lost If not for you An' you know it's true. If not for you Winter would have no spring Couldn't hear the robins sing I just wouldn't have a clue If not for you. Bob Dylan (vocals, piano) Unknown (violin) Wallflower (alternate version, 11/4/71) Written by Bob Dylan Wallflower, wallflower Won't you dance with me? I'm sad and lonely too Wallflower, wallflower Won't you dance with me? I'm fallin' in love with you. Just like you I'm wonderin' what I'm doin' here Just like you I’m wonderin' what's goin' on. Wallflower, wallflower Won't you dance with me? The night will soon be gone. I have seen you standin' in the smokey haze And I know that you're gon’ be mine one of these days Mine alone Wallflower, wallflower Take a chance on me Please let me ride you home. Wallflower, wallflower Won't you dance with me? I'm sad and lonely too Wallflower, wallflower Take a chance on me I'm fallin' in love with you. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar, harmonica) Ben Keith (steel guitar) Wigwam (without overdubs, Self Portrait, 3/4/70) Written by Bob Dylan Just listen to Bob's beautiful voice!! Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) David Bromberg (guitar) Al Kooper (piano) Days of '49 (without overdubs, Self Portrait, 3/4/70) Traditional, arranged by Bob Dylan I'm ol' Tom Moore from the bummers' shore In the the good ol' golden days They call me a bummer and a ginsot too But what cares I for praise I wander round from town to town Just like a rovin' sign And all the people say There goes Tom Moore in the days of '49. In the days of old, in the days of gold How often times I repine For the days of old when we dug up the gold In the days of '49. My comrades they all loved me well A jolly saucy crew A few hard cases I will recall Though they all were brave and true Whatever the pitch they never would flinch They never would fret or whine Like good old bricks they stood the kicks In the days of '49. In the days of old, in the days of gold How oftimes I repine For the days of old when we dug up the gold In the days of '49. There was New York Jake the butcher's boy He was always gettin' tight And every time that he'd got booked He was spoiling for a fight That Jake rampaged against a knife In the hands of ol' Bob Stein An' over Jake they held a wake In the days of '49. In the days of old, in the days of gold How often times I repine For the days of old when we dug up the gold In the days of '49. There was Poker Bill one of the boys Who was always in a game Whether he lost or whether he won To him it was always the same He would ante up and draw his cards And he would you go a hatful blind In a game with death, Bill lost his breath In the days of '49. In the days of old, in the days of gold In the days times I repine In the days of old, in the days of gold Those were days of '49. There was Ragshag Bill from Buffalo I never will forget He would roar all day and he'd roar all night And I guess he's roarin' yet One day he fell in a prospect hole In a roarin' bad design And in that hole he roared out his soul In the days of '49. In the days of old, in the days of gold How oftimes I repine For the days of old when we dug up the gold In the days of '49. Of the comrades all that I’ve had There's none that's left to boast And I'm left alone in my misery Like some ol' poor wanderin' ghost And I pass by from town to town They call me the ramblin' sign There goes Tom Moore, a-bummer's shore In the days of '49. In the days of old, in the days of gold How often times I repine For the days of old when we dug up the gold In the days of '49. In the days of old when we dug up the gold How oftimes I repine For the days of old, in the days of gold In the days of '49. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) David Bromberg (guitar) Al Kooper (piano) Working on a Guru (unreleased, New Morning, 5/1/70) Written by Bob Dylan Rain all around, windshield wipers movin', Water on the ground, sure don't feel like groovin'. Working on a guru, Working on a guru, Working on a guru, before the sun goes down. Rain all around, I need me an umbrella. Water on the ground, I am that kind of fella. Looking for a guru, Working on a guru, Working on a guru, before the sun goes down. Walking on the street, I need me an umbrella. Just to keep it sweet, I am that kind of fella. Looking for a guru, Working on a guru, Working on a guru, before the sun goes down. Rain on the ground, windshield wipers movin', Water all around, I sure don't feel like groovin'. I'm working on a guru, Yes, I'm working on a guru, But I'm working on a guru, before the sun goes down. Working on a guru, Working on a guru, Well, it's true, it could be you I'm working on a guru. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) George Harrison (guitar) Charlie Daniels (bass) Russ Kunkel (drums) Country Pie (alternate version, Nashville Skyline, 2/14/69) Written by Bob Dylan Just like ol' saxophone Joe When he's got the hogshead up on his toe Oh me, oh my Love that country pie. Listen to the fiddler play When he's playin' till the break o'day Oh me, oh my Love that country pie. Raspberry, strawberry, lemon and lime What do I care Blueberry, apple, cherry, pumpkin and plum Call me for dinner, honey, I'll be there. Saddle me up on a big white goose Tie me on her and turn her loose Oh me, oh my Love that country pie. Now I don't need much, that ain't no lie Race.. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) Bob Wilson (piano) Charlie Daniels (guitar) Charlie McCoy (bass) Norman Blake (guitar) Kelton D. Herston (guitar) Peter Drake (steel guitar) Kenneth Buttrey (drums) I'll Be Your Baby Tonight (Live at the Isle of Wight Festival, 8/31/69) Written by Bob Dylan Shut the light Shut the door You don't have to worry anymore I'll be your baby tonight. Shut the light Shut the shade You don't have to be afraid I'll be your, I'll be your baby tonight. Well that mocking bird is gonna sail away We're gonna forget it That big fat moon's gonna shine like a spoon We're gonna let it You won't regret it. Kick your shoes off Do not fear Bring that bottle over here I'll be your, I'll be your baby tonight. Well that mocking bird is gonna sail away And we're gonna let it That big fat moon's gonna shine like a spoon We're gonna let it You won't regret it. Kick your shoes off Do not fear Bring that bottle over here I'll be your, I'll be your baby tonight. I'll be your, I'll be your baby tonight. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) Robbie Robertson (guitar) Rick Danko (vocals, bass) Garth Hudson (keyboards) Richard Manuel (vocals, piano) Levon Helm (vocals, drums) Highway 61 Revisited (Live at the Isle of Wight Festival, 8/31/69) Written by Bob Dylan Oh, god said to Abraham, "Give me a son'' Abe said, "Man you must be puttin' me on!'' God said, "No'', Abe said "What?'' God said, "You can do what you want Abe but The next time you see me comin' you better run'' God said "Where do you want this killin' done'' "Out on highway 61.'' Georgia Sam he had a bloody nose Welfare department wouldn't give him no clothes He asked poor Howard, "Where can I go?'' Howard said, "There's only one place I know'' Sam said, "Tell me quick man, I got to run'' ?? pointed out with his gun "That ol' highway 61.'' Well, Mack the finger said to Louie the king "I got forty red white and blue shoestrings And a thousand telephones that don't ring Do you know where I can possibly get rid of this things'' Sam said, "Yes, I think it can be very easily done ??? on the setting sun Put them on highway 61.'' Well the roving daughter on the twelfth night She told the first father that things weren't right "My complexion'', she said, "you know it's much too white'' "Come on over here girl, step into this light'' "Hm you're right, let me tell mother this has been done'' But the second mother was with the seventh son And they were both out on highway 61. Now the roving gambler he was very bored Trying to create a next world war He found a promoter who nearly fell on the floor He said, "I never did engaged in this kind of thing before But yes, I think I can very easily done We'll just put some bleachers out in the sun An' have it on highway 61.'' Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) Robbie Robertson (guitar) Rick Danko (vocals, bass) Garth Hudson (keyboards) Richard Manuel (vocals, piano) Levon Helm (vocals, drums) Copper Kettle (without overdubs, Self Portrait, 3/3/70) Written by Albert Frank Beddoe Get you a copper kettle Get you a copper coil Fill it with new made corn mash And never more you'll toil. You'll just lay there by the juniper While the moon is bright Watch them jugs a-fillin' In the pale moonlight. Build you a fire with hickory Hickory, ash and oak Don't use no green or rotten wood They'll get you by the smoke. We'll just lay there by the juniper While the moon is bright Watch them jugs a-fillin' In the pale moonlight. My daddy he made whiskey My granddaddy he did too We ain't paid no whiskey tax Since seventeen ninety two. You'll just lay there by the juniper While the moon is bright Watch them jugs a-fillin' In the pale moonlight In the pale moonlight. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) David Bromberg (guitar) Al Kooper (piano) Bring Me a Little Water (unreleased, New Morning, 6/4/70) Traditional, arranged by Bob Dylan Sylvie is a good old girl, from Florida so they say She came up here last April to pass some time away Now won't you bring me a little water, Sylvie? Bring me a little water now? Bring me a little water, Sylvie? For my tired brow Sylvie came here Wednesday, She came this morning by the light of the dawn She comes up here now nearly all of the time To see if she can carry on Now won't you bring me a little water, Sylvie? Bring me a little water now? Bring me a little water, Sylvie? For my tired brow Sylvie says she loves me, She says it all of the time She always gets behind me, When the hill is too high to climb Now bring me a little water, Sylvie? Bring me a little water now? Bring me a little water, Sylvie? For my tired brow She brings beer and honey, Brings me slop and beans Brings me coconuts and candy, Brings me turnip greens Bring me a little water, Sylvie? Bring me a little water now? Bring me a little water, Sylvie? For my tired brow For my tired brow Oh, for my tired brow Bob Dylan (vocals, piano) Charlie Daniels (bass) David Bromberg (guitar) Ron Cornelius (guitar) Russ Kunkel (drums) Hilda Harris, Albetine Robinson, Maeretha Stewart (background vocals) Sign on the Window (with orchestral overdubs, New Morning, 6/5/70) Written by Bob Dylan Sign on the window says, "Lonely'' Sign on the door says, "No company allowed'' Sign on the street says, "You don't own me'' Sign on the porch says, "Three's a crowd" Sign on the porch says that three's a crowd. Her and her boyfriend went to California Her and her boyfriend done changed their tune My best friends said, "Now didn't I warn you Brighton girls are like the moon Brighton girls are like the moon.'' Looks like a-nothin' but rain Sure gonna be wet tonight on main street Hope that it don't sleet. Build me a cabin in Utah Marry me a wife, catch rainbow trout Have a bunch of kids who call me Pa That must be what it's all about That must be what it's all about. Bob Dylan (vocals, piano) Charlie Daniels (bass) David Bromberg (guitar, dobro) Ron Cornelius (guitar) Al Kooper (organ) Russ Kunkel (drums) String arrangement by Al Kooper & Charles Calello Tattle O'Day (unreleased, Self Portrait, 3/4/70) Traditional, arranged by Bob Dylan I buyed me a little dog, color it was brown I learned him to whistle, sing and dance and run. His legs they were fourteen yards long, his ears they were quite broad Around the world in half a day and on him I could ride. Sing taddle o day. I buyed me a little bull about four inches high Everybody feared him that ever heard him cry When he begins to bellow it made such melodious sound, Till all the walls in London came tumbling to the ground. Sing taddle o day. I buyed me a flock of sheep, I thought they were all wethers Sometimes they yielded wool, sometimes they yielded feathers. I think mine are the very best sheep for yielding me increase For every full and change of the moon they bring both lambs and geese, Sing taddle o day. I buyed me a little box about four acres square I filled it full of guineas and silver so fair Oh now I'm bound for Turkey, I'll travel like an ox In my breeches pocket, I'll carry my little box Sing taddle o day. I buyed me a little hen, all speckled gay and fair I sat her on an oyster shell, she hatched me out a hare The hare it sprang a handsome horse full fifteen hands high And him that tells a bigger tale would have to tell a lie Sing taddle o day. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) David Bromberg (guitar) Al Kooper (piano) If Dogs Run Free (alternate version, New Morning, 6/5/70) Written by Bob Dylan If dogs run free, why not we Across this swoopin' plain? My ears hear a symphony Two mules, trains and the wind The best is always yet to come Or so they explain to me But every way is the right way If dogs run free. If dogs run free, then why not we If dogs run free. If dogs run free, why not me Across the swamp of time My mind weaves a tapestry A fine design, a rhyme Oh winds which rush my tale to thee So it may flow and be To each his own, it's all unknown If dogs run free. If dogs run free, then why not we If dogs run free. If dogs run free then what must be Must be and that is all True love can make a blade of grass Stand up straight and tall In harmony with the cosmic sea True love needs no company It can cure the soul It can make it whole If dogs run free. If dogs run free, then why not we If dogs run free. If dogs run free, then why not we If dogs run free. If dogs run free, why not we If dogs run free. Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) Charlie Daniels (bass) David Bromberg (guitar) Ron Cornelius (guitar) Russ Kunkel (drums) Hilda Harris, Albertine Robinson, Maeretha Stewart (background vocals) New Morning (with horn section overdubs, New Morning, 6/4/70) Written by Bob Dylan Can't you hear that rooster crowin' Rabbit runnin’ down across the road Underneath the bridge where the water flowed through So happy just to see you smile Underneath the sky of blue On this new morning, new morning On this new morning with you. Can't you hear that motor turnin' Automobile comin' into style Comin' down the road for a country mile or two So happy just to see you smile Underneath the sky of blue On this new morning, new morning On this new morning with you. The night passed away so quickly It always does when you're with me. Can't you feel that sun a-shinin' Ground hog runnin' by the county stream This must be the day that all my dreams come true So happy just to be alive Underneath the sky of blue On this new morning, new morning On this new morning with you. So happy just to be alive Underneath the sky of blue On this new morning, new morning On this new morning with you New morning, new morning… Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) Charlie Daniels (bass) David Bromberg (guitar) Ron Cornelius (guitar) Al Kooper (organ) Russ Kunkel (drums) Horn arranged by Al Kooper & Charles Calello Went to See the Gypsy (alternate version, New Morning, 6/5/70) Written by Bob Dylan I went to see the gypsy Stayin' in a big hotel He smiled when he saw me comin' An' he said "Well, well, well'' His room was dark and crowded Lights were low and dim. "How are you?'', he said to me I said it back to him. I went down to the lobby To make a small call out A pretty dancin' girl was there An' she began to shout "Go on back to see the gypsy He can move you from the rear Drive you from your fear Bring you through the mirror He did it in Las Vegas An' he could do it here.'' “He could do it here.'' Outside the lights were shinin' On a river of tears I watched them from a distance With music in my ears. I went back to see the gypsy It was nearly early dawn The gypsy's door was opened wide But the gypsy was gone An' that pretty dancin' girl She could not be found So I watched that sun come rising up From that little Minnesota town From that little Minnesota town. Bob Dylan (vocals, electric piano) Belle Isle (without overdubs, Self Portrait, 3/3/70) Traditional, arranged by Bob Dylan One evening for pleasure I rambled to view the fair fields all alone Down by the banks of Loch Erin Where beauty and pleasure were known I spied a fair maid at her labor Which caused me to stay for a while And I thought of a goddess of beauty Bloomin' bright star of bright isle. I humbled myself to her beauty "Fair maiden where do you belong? Are you from heaven descended Abiding in Cupid's fair throng.'' "Young man I will tell you a secret It's true I'm a maid that is poor And to part from my vows and my promise Is more that my heart can endure. Therefore I'll remain at my service And go through all my hardship and toil And wait for the life that has left me All alone on the banks of Belle Isle.'' "Young maiden I which not to banter 'T'is true I've come here in disguise I came here to fulfill our last promise And hoped to give you a surprise I own you're a maid I love gently An' you've been in my heart all the while For me there is no other damsel Than my bloomin' bright star of Belle Isle.'' Bob Dylan (vocals, guitar) David Bromberg (guitar) Time Passes Slowly #2 (alternate version #2, New Morning, 6/2/70) Written by Bob Dylan Time passes slowly Up here in the mountains We sat beside bridges And walked beside fountains Catch the wild fishes That float through the stream Times passes slowly When you're lost in a dream. Once I had a sweetheart She was fine and good lookin’ We sat in her kitchen While her mama was cookin' Starin' out the window To the stars high above Time passes slowly When you're searchin' for love. Ain't no reason to go In a wagon to town Ain't no reason to go To the fair Ain't no reason to go up Ain't no reason to go down Ain't no reason to go anywhere. Time passes slowly Up here in the daylight We stared straight ahead An' tried so hard to stay right Like a red rose of summer That blooms in the day Time passes slowly Then fades away. Bob Dylan (vocals, piano) Charlie Daniels (bass) David Bromberg (guitar) Ron Cornelius (guitar) Al Kooper (organ) Russ Kunkel (drums) When I Paint My Masterpiece (demo version, 3/19/71) Written by Bob Dylan Oh the streets of Rome are filled with rubble Aged footprints are everywhere You can almost think that you're seeing double On a cold dark night by the Spanish stairs Got to hurry on back to my hotel room Where I got me a date with pretty little girl from Greece She promised she'd be right there with me When I paint my masterpiece. Oh the hours I’ve spent inside the coliseum Dodging lions and wastin' time Oh those mighty kings of the jungle I could hardly stand to see 'em It sure has been a long hard climb. Train wheels runnin' through the back of my memory When I ran on a hilltop following a pack of wild geese Someday everything is gonna sound like rhapsody When I paint my masterpiece. Sailing around the world in a dirty gondola Sure wish I hadn’t sold my old Victrola Ain’t nothing like to that good old rock-n-rolla I left Rome and pulled into Brussels On a plain ride so bumpy that I almost cried Clergymen in uniform and young girls pullin' muscles Everyone was there to greet me when I stepped inside Newspapermen eating candy Had to be held down by big police Someday everything is gonna be different When I paint that masterpiece. Bob Dylan (vocals, piano)