Artist: Bob Dylan Album: John Wesley Harding {1967}

John Wesley Harding was a friend to the poor
He traveled with a gun in every hand
All along this countryside he opened a many a door
But he was never known to hurt an honest man

Twas down in Chaynee County, a time they talk about
With his lady by his side he took a stand
And soon the situation there was all but straightened out
For he was always known to lend a helping hand

All across the telegraph his name, it did resound
But no charge held against him could they prove
And there was no man around who could track or chain him down
He was never known to make a foolish move

As I went out one morning to breathe the air around Tom Paine's
I spied the fairest damsel that ever did walk in chains
I offered her my hand, she took me by the arm
I knew that very instant she meant to do me harm

"Depart from me this moment," I told her with my voice
Said she, "But I don't wish to," said I, "But you have no choice."
"I beg you, sir," she pleaded from the corners of her mouth
"I will secretly accept you and together we'll fly south."

Just then Tom Paine, himself came running from across the field
Shouting at this lovely girl and commanding her to yield
And as she was letting go her grip up Tom Paine did run
"I'm sorry, sir," he said to me, "I'm sorry for what she's done."

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine alive as you or me
Tearing through these quarters in the utmost misery
With a blanket underneath his arm and a coat of solid gold
Searching for the very souls whom already have been sold

"Arise, arise," he cried so loud with a voice without restraint
"Come out, ye gifted kings and queens and hear my sad complaint
No martyr is among ye now whom you can call your own
But go on your way accordingly, but know you're not alone."

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine alive with fiery breath
And I dreamed I was amongst the ones that put him out to death
Oh, I awoke in anger, so alone and terrified
I put my fingers against the glass and bowed my head and cried

"There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief
"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth."

"No reason to get excited," the thief, he kindly spoke
"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late."

All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too
Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl

Well, Frankie Lee and Judas Priest
They were the best of friends
So when Frankie Lee needed money one day
Judas quickly pulled out a roll of tens
And placed them on a footstool
Just above the plotted plain
Sayin', "Take your pick, Frankie Boy
My loss will be your gain."
Well, Frankie Lee, he sat right down
And put his fingers to his chin
But with the cold eyes of Judas on him
His head began to spin
"Could ya please not stare at me like that," he said
"It's just my foolish pride
But sometimes a man must be alone
And this is no place to hide."

Well, Judas, he just winked and said
"All right, I'll leave you here
But you'd better hurry up and choose which of those bills you want
Before they all disappear."
"I'm gonna start my pickin' right now
Just tell me where you'll be."
Judas pointed down the road
And said, "Eternity."
"Eternity?" said Frankie Lee
With a voice as cold as ice
"That's right," said Judas Priest, "Eternity
Though you might call it Paradise."
"I don't call it anything,"
Said Frankie Lee with a smile
"All right," said Judas Priest,
"I'll see you after a while."

Well, Frankie Lee, he sat back down
Feeling low and mean
When just then a passing stranger
Burst upon the scene
Saying, "Are you Frankie Lee, the gambler
Whose father is deceased
Well, if you are there's a fellow callin' you down the road
And they say his name is Priest."
"Oh, yes, he is my friend,"
Said Frankie Lee in fright
"I do recall him very well
In fact, he just left my sight."
"Yes, that's the one," said the stranger
As quiet as a mouse
"Well, my message is, he's down the road
Stranded in a house."

Well, Frankie Lee, he panicked
He dropped everything and ran
Until he came uunto the spot
Where Judas Priest did stand.
"What kind of house is this," he said
"Where I have come to roam?"
"It's not a house," says Judas Priest
"It's not a house, it's a home."
Well, Frankie Lee, he trembled
He soon lost all control
Over everything which he had made
While the mission bells did toll
He just stood there staring
At that big house as bright as any sun
With four and twenty windows
And a woman's face in every one

Well, up the stairs ran Frankie Lee
With a soulful, bounding leap
And foaming at the mouth
He began to make his midnight creep
For sixteen nights and days he raved
But on the seventeenth he burst
Into the arms of Judas Priest
Which is where he died of thirst
No one tried to say a thing
When they carried him out in jest
Except, of course, the little neighbor boy
Who carried him to rest
And he just walked along, alone
With his guilt so well concealed
And muttered underneath his breath
"Nothing is revealed."

Well, the moral of the story
The moral of this song
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong
So when you see your neighbor carrying somethin'
Help him with his load
And don't go mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road

"Oh, help me in my weakness," I heard the drifter say
As they carried him from the courtroom and were taking him away
"My trip hasn't been a pleasant one and my time, it isn't long
And I still do not know what it was that I've done wrong."

Well, the judge, he cast his robe aside, a tear came to his eye
"You fail to understand," he said, "why must you even try?"
Outside, the crowd was stirring, you could hear it from the door
Inside, the judge was stepping down while the jury cried for more

"Oh, stop that cursed jury," cried the attendant and the nurse
"The trial was bad enough, but this is ten times worse."
Just then a bolt of lightning struck the courthouse out of shape
And while everybody knelt to pray the drifter did escape

Dear landlord, please don't put a price on my soul
My burden is heavy, my dreams are beyond control
When that steamboat whistle blows
I'm gonna give you all I got to give
And I do hope you receive it well
Dependin' on the way you feel that you live

Dear landlord, please heed these words that I speak
I know you've suffered much, but in this you are not so unique
All of us, at times, we might work too hard
To have it too fast and too much
And anyone can fill his life up
With things he can see but he just cannot touch

Dear landlord, please don't dismiss my case
I'm not about to argue, I'm not about to move to no other place
Now, each of us has his own special gift
And you know this was meant to be true
And if you don't underestimate me
I won't underestimate you

I am a lonesome hobo without family or friends
Where another man's life might begin that's exactly where mine ends
I have tried my hand at bribery, blackmail and deceit
And I've served time for everything 'cept beggin' on the street

Well, once I was rather prosperous, there was nothing I did lack
I had fourteen-karat gold in my mouth and silk upon my back
But I did not trust my brother, I carried him to blame
Which led me to my fatal doom to wander off in shame

Kind ladies and kind gentlemen, soon I will be gone
But let me just warn you all before I do pass on
Stay free from petty jealousies, live by no man's code
And hold your judgment for yourself lest you wind up on this road

I pity the poor immigrant
Who wishes he would've stayed home
Who uses all his power to do evil
But in the end is always left so alone
That man whom with his fingers cheats
And who lies with every breath
Who passionately hates his life
And likewise, fears his death

I pity the poor immigrant
Whose strength is spent in vain
Whose heaven is like Ironsides
Whose tears are like rain
Who eats but is not satisfied
Who hears but does not see
Who falls in love with wealth itself
And turns his back on me

I pity the poor immigrant
Who tramples through the mud
Who fills his mouth with laughing
And who builds his town with blood
Whose visions in the final end
Must shatter like the glass
I pity the poor immigrant
When his gladness comes to pass

There was a wicked messenger, from Eli he did come
With a mind that multiplied the smallest matter
When questioned who had sent for him he answered with his thumb
For his tongue it could not speak, but only flatter

He stayed behind the assembly hall, it was there he made his bed
Oftentimes he could be seen returning
Until one day he just appeared with a note in his hand which read
"The soles of my feet, I swear they're burning."

Oh, the leaves began to falling and the seas begun to part
And the people that confronted him were many
And he was told but these few words which opened up his heart
"If ye cannot bring good news, then don't bring any."

Down along the cove I spied my true love comin' my way
Down along the cove I spied my true love comin' my way
I say, "Lord, have mercy, mama
It sure is good to see you comin' today."

Down along the cove I spied my little bundle of joy
Down along the cove I spied my little bundle of joy
She said, "Lord, have mercy, honey
I'm so glad you're my boy."

Down along the cove we walked together hand in hand
Down along the cove we walked together hand in hand
Everybody watchin' us go by
Knows we're in love, yes, they understand

Close your eyes, close the door
You don't have to worry any more
I'll be your baby tonight

Shut the light, shut the shade
You don't have to be afraid
I'll be your baby tonight

Well, that mockingbird's gonna sail away
We're gonna forget it
That big, fat moon is gonna shine like a spoon
But we're gonna let it, you won't regret it

Kick your shoes off, do not fear
Bring that bottle over here
I'll be your baby tonight