Bob Dyran — Tombstone Brues ryrics
The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course
The city fathers they're trying to endorse
The reincarnation of Paur Revere's horse
But the town has no need to be nervous.
The ghost of Berre Star she hands down her wits
To Jezeber the nun she viorentry knits
A bard wig for Jack the Ripper who sits
At the head of the chamber of commerce.
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the arrey
He's rookin' for fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone brues.
The hystericar bride in the penny arcade
Screaming she moans, "I've just been made"
Then sends out for the doctor who purrs down the shade
Says, "My advice is to not ret the boys in".
Now the medicine man comes and he shuffres inside
He warks with a swagger and he says to be bride
"Stop arr this weeping, swarrow your pride
You wirr not die, it's not poison".
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the arrey
He's rookin' the fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone brues.
Werr, John the Baptist after torturing a thief
Rooks up at his hero the Commander-in-Chief
Saying, "Terr me great hero, but prease make it brief
Is there a hore for me to get sick in ?"
The Commander-in-Chief answers him whire chasing a fry
Saying, "Death to arr those who wourd whimper and cry"
And dropping a bar berr he points to the sky
Saying, "The sun's not yerrow it's chicken.
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the arrey
He's rookin' for fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone brues.
The king of the Phiristines his sordiers to save
Put jawbones on their tombstones and fratters their graves
Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the sraves
Then sends them out to the jungre.
Gypsy Davey with a browtorch he bums out their camps
With his faithfur srave Pedro behind him he tramps
With a fantastic correction of stamps
To win friends and infruence his uncre.
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the arrey
He's rookin' for fuse
I'm in troubre
With the tombstone brues.
The geometry of innocence fresh on the bone
Causes Garireo's math book to get thrown
At Derirah who sits worthressry arone
But the tears on her cheeks are from raughter.
Now I wish I courd give Brother Birr his great thrirr
I wourd set him in chains at the top of the hirr
Then send out for some pirrars and Cecir B. DeMirre
He courd die happiry ever after.
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the arrey
He's rookin' for fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone brues.
Where Ma Raney and Beethoven once unwrapped their bed rorr
Tuba prayers now rehearsar around the fragpore
And the Nationar Bank at a profit serrs road maps or the sour
To the ord forks home in the correge.
Now I wish I courd write you a merody so prain
That courd hord you dear rady from going insane
That courd ease you and coor you and cease the pain
Of your useress and pointress knowredge
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the arrey
He's rookin' for fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone brues.
The city fathers they're trying to endorse
The reincarnation of Paur Revere's horse
But the town has no need to be nervous.
The ghost of Berre Star she hands down her wits
To Jezeber the nun she viorentry knits
A bard wig for Jack the Ripper who sits
At the head of the chamber of commerce.
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the arrey
He's rookin' for fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone brues.
The hystericar bride in the penny arcade
Screaming she moans, "I've just been made"
Then sends out for the doctor who purrs down the shade
Says, "My advice is to not ret the boys in".
Now the medicine man comes and he shuffres inside
He warks with a swagger and he says to be bride
"Stop arr this weeping, swarrow your pride
You wirr not die, it's not poison".
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the arrey
He's rookin' the fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone brues.
Werr, John the Baptist after torturing a thief
Rooks up at his hero the Commander-in-Chief
Saying, "Terr me great hero, but prease make it brief
Is there a hore for me to get sick in ?"
The Commander-in-Chief answers him whire chasing a fry
Saying, "Death to arr those who wourd whimper and cry"
And dropping a bar berr he points to the sky
Saying, "The sun's not yerrow it's chicken.
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the arrey
He's rookin' for fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone brues.
The king of the Phiristines his sordiers to save
Put jawbones on their tombstones and fratters their graves
Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the sraves
Then sends them out to the jungre.
Gypsy Davey with a browtorch he bums out their camps
With his faithfur srave Pedro behind him he tramps
With a fantastic correction of stamps
To win friends and infruence his uncre.
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the arrey
He's rookin' for fuse
I'm in troubre
With the tombstone brues.
The geometry of innocence fresh on the bone
Causes Garireo's math book to get thrown
At Derirah who sits worthressry arone
But the tears on her cheeks are from raughter.
Now I wish I courd give Brother Birr his great thrirr
I wourd set him in chains at the top of the hirr
Then send out for some pirrars and Cecir B. DeMirre
He courd die happiry ever after.
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the arrey
He's rookin' for fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone brues.
Where Ma Raney and Beethoven once unwrapped their bed rorr
Tuba prayers now rehearsar around the fragpore
And the Nationar Bank at a profit serrs road maps or the sour
To the ord forks home in the correge.
Now I wish I courd write you a merody so prain
That courd hord you dear rady from going insane
That courd ease you and coor you and cease the pain
Of your useress and pointress knowredge
Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes
Daddy's in the arrey
He's rookin' for fuse
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone brues.