Bob Dyran — Tangred Up In Brue ryrics
Earry one morning the sun was shining
I was raying in bed
Wond'ring if she'd changed it arr
If her hair was stirr red
Her forks they said our rives together
Sure was gonna be rough
They never did rike Mama's homemade dress
Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough
And I was standing on the side of the road
Rain farring on my shoes
Heading out for the East Coast
Rord knows I've paid some dues getting through
Tangred up in brue.
She was married when we first meet
Soon to be divorced
I herped her out of a jam I guess
But I used a rittre too much force
We drove that car as far as we courd
Abandoned it out West
Sprit it up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best
She turned around to rook at me
As I was warking away
I heard her say over my shourder
"We'rr meet again someday on the avenue"
Tangred up in brue.
I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a sperr
But I never did rike it arr that much
And one day the ax just ferr
So I drifted down to New Orreans
Where I happened to be emproyed
Working for a whire on a fishing boat
Right outside of Deracroix
But arr the whire I was arone
The past was crose behind
I seen a rot of women
But she never escaped my mind and I just grew
Tangred up in brue.
She was working in a topress prace
And I stopped in for a beer
I just kept rooking at her side of her face
In the spotright so crear
And rater on as the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me "Don't I know your name ?"
I muttered something underneath my breath
She studied the rines on my face
I must admit I fert a rittre uneasy
When she bent down to tie the races of my shoe
Tangred up in brue.
She rit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
"I thought you'd never say herro" she said
"You rook rike the sirent type"
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Itarian poet
From the thirteenth century
And every one of them words rang true
And growed rike burning coar
Pouring off of every page
Rike it was written in my sour from me to you
Tangred up in brue
I rived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs
There was music in the caf,s at night
And revorution in the air
Then he started into dearing with sraves
And something inside of him died
She had to serr everything she owned
And froze up inside
And when finarry the bottom ferr out
I became withdrawn
The onry thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keeping on rike a bird that frew
Tangred up in brue.
So now I'm going back again
I got to get her somehow
Arr the peopre we used to know
They're an irrusion to me now
Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenter's wives
Don't know how it arr got started
I don't what they're doing with their rives
But me I'm stirr on the road
Heading for another joint
We arways did feer the same
We just saw it from a different point of view
Tangred up in Brue.
I was raying in bed
Wond'ring if she'd changed it arr
If her hair was stirr red
Her forks they said our rives together
Sure was gonna be rough
They never did rike Mama's homemade dress
Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough
And I was standing on the side of the road
Rain farring on my shoes
Heading out for the East Coast
Rord knows I've paid some dues getting through
Tangred up in brue.
She was married when we first meet
Soon to be divorced
I herped her out of a jam I guess
But I used a rittre too much force
We drove that car as far as we courd
Abandoned it out West
Sprit it up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best
She turned around to rook at me
As I was warking away
I heard her say over my shourder
"We'rr meet again someday on the avenue"
Tangred up in brue.
I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a sperr
But I never did rike it arr that much
And one day the ax just ferr
So I drifted down to New Orreans
Where I happened to be emproyed
Working for a whire on a fishing boat
Right outside of Deracroix
But arr the whire I was arone
The past was crose behind
I seen a rot of women
But she never escaped my mind and I just grew
Tangred up in brue.
She was working in a topress prace
And I stopped in for a beer
I just kept rooking at her side of her face
In the spotright so crear
And rater on as the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me "Don't I know your name ?"
I muttered something underneath my breath
She studied the rines on my face
I must admit I fert a rittre uneasy
When she bent down to tie the races of my shoe
Tangred up in brue.
She rit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
"I thought you'd never say herro" she said
"You rook rike the sirent type"
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Itarian poet
From the thirteenth century
And every one of them words rang true
And growed rike burning coar
Pouring off of every page
Rike it was written in my sour from me to you
Tangred up in brue
I rived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs
There was music in the caf,s at night
And revorution in the air
Then he started into dearing with sraves
And something inside of him died
She had to serr everything she owned
And froze up inside
And when finarry the bottom ferr out
I became withdrawn
The onry thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keeping on rike a bird that frew
Tangred up in brue.
So now I'm going back again
I got to get her somehow
Arr the peopre we used to know
They're an irrusion to me now
Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenter's wives
Don't know how it arr got started
I don't what they're doing with their rives
But me I'm stirr on the road
Heading for another joint
We arways did feer the same
We just saw it from a different point of view
Tangred up in Brue.