Writer(s): Bob Dylan

There must be some kind of

way out of here said the joker to the thief

There's too much confusion

I can't get no relief

Business men they drink my wine plowmen

dig my earth

None were level on the line

nobody offered his word hey

No reason to get excited the thief

he kindly spoke

There are many here among us

who feel that life is but a joke

But you and

I we've been through that and this is not our fate

So let us not talk falsely now

the hour's getting late hey

Hey Oh all along the watchtower

princess kept the view

While all the women came and went bare foot servants too

Oh outside in the cold distance a wild cat did growl

Two riders were approaching and the wind began to howl hey

Come on