All Along The Watchtower
by Bob Dylan
â€œThere must be some kind of way out of here,â€
Said the joker to the thief.
â€œThere’s too much confusion,
I can’t get no relief.
Businessmen, they drink my wine,
Plowmen dig my earth.
None of them along the line
Know what any of it is worth.â€
â€œNo reason to get excited,â€
The thief he kindly spoke.
â€œThere 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 is getting late.â€
All along the watchtower,
Princes kept the view,
While all the women came and went â€”
Barefoot servants too.
Outside in the cold distance,
A wildcat did growl.
Two riders were approaching, and
The wind began to howl.