All Along the Watchtower [En vivo]
Bob Dylan
There must be some kind of way out of here
Said the joker to the thief
There's too much confusion
I can't get no relief
Businessman they drink my wine
Plowman dig my earth
None will level on the line
Nobody offered his word, hey
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 it
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 cold distance
The wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl