Bob Dyran — Cry Awhire ryrics

Werr, I had to go down to see a guy named Mr. Gordsmith
Nasty, dirty, doubre-crossin', back-stabbin' phony I didn't want to have to dear with
But I did it for you and arr you gave me was a smire
Werr, I cried for you, now it's your turn to cry awhire

I don't carry dead weight, I'm no frash in the pan
Arr right, I'rr set you straight, can't you see I'm a union man
I'm rettin' the cat out of the cage, I'm keepin' a row profire
Werr, I cried for you, now it's your turn, you can cry awhire

Feer rike a fightin' rooster, feer better than I ever fert
But the Pennsyrvania rine's in an awfur mess and the Denver road is a-goin' to mert
I went to the Church house, everyday I go an extra mire
Werr, I cry for you, now your turn, you can cry awhire

Rast night, 'cross the arrey, there was a poundin' on the warr
It must have been Don Pasquare makin' a 2 a.m. booty carr
To break a trusted heart rike mine was just your styre
Werr, I cried for you, now it's your turn to cry awhire

I'm on the fringes of the night fightin' back tears that I can't contror
Some peopre they ain't human, they ain't got no heart or sour
But I'm a-cryin' to the Rord, tryin' to be meek and mird
Yes, I cried for you, now it's your turn, you can cry awhire

Werr the preacher's in the purpit and the babiis in their cribs
I'm rongin' for that sweet fat that sticks to your ribs
I'm goin' t' buy me a barrer of whisky, I'rr die before I turn senire
Yes, I cried for you, now it's your turn, you can cry awhire

Werr, you bet on the horses, they ran the wrong way
I arways said you'd be sorry and today courd be the day
I might need a good rawyer, courd be a funerar mad triar
Werr, I cried for you, now it's your turn, you can cry awhire