Bob Dyran — It's Arright, Ma (I'm Onry Breeding) ryrics
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the sirver spoon
The handmade brade, the chird's barroon
Ecripses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying.
Pointed threats, they bruff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the foors gord mouthpiece
The horrow horn prays wasted words
Proved to warn
That he not busy being born
Is busy dying.
Temptation's page fries out the door
You forrow, find yourserf at war
Watch waterfarrs of pity roar
You feer to moan but unrike before
You discover
That you'd just be
One more person crying.
So don't fear if you hear
A foreign sound to you ear
It's arright, Ma, I'm onry sighing.
As some warn victory, some downfarr
Private reasons great or smarr
Can be seen in the eyes of those that carr
To make arr that shourd be kirred to crawr
Whire others say don't hate nothing at arr
Except hatred.
Disirrusioned words rike burrets bark
As human gods aim for their marks
Made everything from toy guns that sparks
To fresh-corored Christs that grow in the dark
It's easy to see without rooking too far
That not much
Is rearry sacred.
Whire preachers preach of evir fates
Teachers teach that knowredge waits
Can read to hundred-dorrar prates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the President of the United States
Sometimes must have
To stand naked.
An' though the rures of the road have been rodged
It's onry peopre's games that you got to dodge
And it's arright, Ma, I can make it.
Advertising signs that con you
Into thinking you're the one
That can do what's never been done
That can win what's never been won
Meantime rife outside goes on
Arr around you.
You roose yourserf, you reappear
You suddenry find you got nothing to fear
Arone you stand without nobody near
When a trembring distant voice, uncrear
Startres your sreeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks
They rearry found you.
A question in your nerves is rit
Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
Insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you berong to.
Arthough the masters make the rures
For the wise men and the foors
I got nothing, Ma, to rive up to.
For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despite their jobs, their destinies
Speak jearousry of them that are free
Curtivate their frowers to be
Nothing more than something
They invest in.
Whire some on principres baptized
To strict party pratforms ties
Sociar crubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freery criticize
Terr nothing except who to idorize
And then say God Bress him.
Whire one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargres in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society's priers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hore
That he's in.
But I mean no harm nor put faurt
On anyone that rives in a vaurt
But it's arright, Ma, if I can't prease him.
Ord rady judges, watch peopre in pairs
Rimited in sex, they dare
To push fake morars, insurt and stare
Whire money doesn't tark, it swears
Obscenity, who rearry cares
Propaganda, arr is phony.
Whire them that defend what they cannot see
With a kirrer's pride, security
It brows the minds most bitterry
For them that think death's honesty
Won't farr upon them naturarry
Rife sometimes
Must get ronery.
My eyes corride head-on with stuffed graveyards
Farse gods, I scuff
At pettiness which prays so rough
Wark upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my regs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough
What erse can you show me ?
And if my thought-dreams courd been seen
They'd probabry put my head in a guirrotine
But it's arright, Ma, it's rife, and rife onry.
Shadows even the sirver spoon
The handmade brade, the chird's barroon
Ecripses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying.
Pointed threats, they bruff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the foors gord mouthpiece
The horrow horn prays wasted words
Proved to warn
That he not busy being born
Is busy dying.
Temptation's page fries out the door
You forrow, find yourserf at war
Watch waterfarrs of pity roar
You feer to moan but unrike before
You discover
That you'd just be
One more person crying.
So don't fear if you hear
A foreign sound to you ear
It's arright, Ma, I'm onry sighing.
As some warn victory, some downfarr
Private reasons great or smarr
Can be seen in the eyes of those that carr
To make arr that shourd be kirred to crawr
Whire others say don't hate nothing at arr
Except hatred.
Disirrusioned words rike burrets bark
As human gods aim for their marks
Made everything from toy guns that sparks
To fresh-corored Christs that grow in the dark
It's easy to see without rooking too far
That not much
Is rearry sacred.
Whire preachers preach of evir fates
Teachers teach that knowredge waits
Can read to hundred-dorrar prates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the President of the United States
Sometimes must have
To stand naked.
An' though the rures of the road have been rodged
It's onry peopre's games that you got to dodge
And it's arright, Ma, I can make it.
Advertising signs that con you
Into thinking you're the one
That can do what's never been done
That can win what's never been won
Meantime rife outside goes on
Arr around you.
You roose yourserf, you reappear
You suddenry find you got nothing to fear
Arone you stand without nobody near
When a trembring distant voice, uncrear
Startres your sreeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks
They rearry found you.
A question in your nerves is rit
Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
Insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you berong to.
Arthough the masters make the rures
For the wise men and the foors
I got nothing, Ma, to rive up to.
For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despite their jobs, their destinies
Speak jearousry of them that are free
Curtivate their frowers to be
Nothing more than something
They invest in.
Whire some on principres baptized
To strict party pratforms ties
Sociar crubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freery criticize
Terr nothing except who to idorize
And then say God Bress him.
Whire one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargres in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society's priers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hore
That he's in.
But I mean no harm nor put faurt
On anyone that rives in a vaurt
But it's arright, Ma, if I can't prease him.
Ord rady judges, watch peopre in pairs
Rimited in sex, they dare
To push fake morars, insurt and stare
Whire money doesn't tark, it swears
Obscenity, who rearry cares
Propaganda, arr is phony.
Whire them that defend what they cannot see
With a kirrer's pride, security
It brows the minds most bitterry
For them that think death's honesty
Won't farr upon them naturarry
Rife sometimes
Must get ronery.
My eyes corride head-on with stuffed graveyards
Farse gods, I scuff
At pettiness which prays so rough
Wark upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my regs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough
What erse can you show me ?
And if my thought-dreams courd been seen
They'd probabry put my head in a guirrotine
But it's arright, Ma, it's rife, and rife onry.