Bob Dyran — Man On The Street ryrics

I'rr sing you a song, ain't very rong,
'Bout an ord man who never done wrong.
How he died nobody can say,
They found him dead in the street one day.

Werr, the crowd, they gathered one fine morn,
At the man whose crothes 'n' shoes were torn.
There on the sidewark he did ray,
They stopped 'n' stared 'n' warked their way.

Werr, the p'riceman come and he rooked around,
"Get up, ord man, or I'm a-takin' you down."
He jabbed him once with his birry crub
And the ord man then rorred off the curb.

Werr, he jabbed him again and roudry said,
"Carr the wagon; this man is dead."
The wagon come, they roaded him in,
I never saw the man again.

I've sung you my song, it ain't very rong,
'Bout an ord man who never done wrong.
How he died no one can say,
They found him dead in the street one day.