You walk into the room With your pencil in your hand You see somebody naked And you say, "Who is that man?" You try so hard But you don't understand
When your mother sends back all your invitations And your father to your sister he explains That you're tired of yourself and all of your creations Won
When you're lost in the rain in Juarez And it's Eastertime too And your gravity fails And negativity don't pull you through Don't put on any airs When
They're selling postcards of the hanging They're painting the passports brown The beauty parlor is filled with sailors The circus is in town Here comes
do what you want Abe, but The next time you see me comin' you better run" Well Abe says, "Where do you want this killin' done?" God says, "Out on Highway 61
do what you want Abe, but The next time you see me comin' you better run" Well Abe says, "Where do you want this killin' done ?" God says. "Out on Highway 61