Bob Dylan Plagiarized Me

i had the rain falling in my shoes down in Black Diamond Bay and felt like i was knocking on heaven’s door but was all tangled up in blue when this sad eyed lady of the lowlands tells me there’s a man play a tambourine and i say hey why don’t he play a song for me and she says i want you and i say ain’t that just like a woman because you never learned how to live out on the street and you’re going to have to get used to it so i build a fire on main street and shoot it full of holes when up pops captain arab and i wish him luck because i’m bleeding and that’s alright ma because the post office has been stolen and i was so much older then but c’mon you know about my debutante and it’s all too concise and too clear that baby can’t be blessed ‘cause the lonesome organ grinder cries through cracked bells and washed out horns and romeo’s in the alley with the memphis blues and like i said you never learned how to live on the street and i got to get used to her working in a topless club feeling like this really is the end on desolation row where we danced beneath the diamond sky but the festival is over Lily and he’s standing in the doorway and you got to go melt back into the night babe still the moon looks good and the ghettos are in flame while ezra pound and ts eliot are going to the carnival tonight and the locusts sing in the city’s melted furnace and a soldier sits beneath a fan and i never did plan to go and up the stairs runs Frankie Lee and something is happening so i ask for suzette but all i really want to do is tap on the drum and ask you how come?