i shall be free lyrics – bob dylan

well, i took me a woman late last night,
i’s three-fourths drunk, she looked uptight.
she took off her wheel, took off her bell,
took off her wig, said, “how do i smell?”
i hot-footed it . . . bare-naked . . .
out the window!

well, sometimes i might get drunk,
walk like a duck and stomp like a skunk.
don’t hurt me none, don’t hurt my pride
’cause i got my little lady right by my side.
(right there
proud as can be)

i’s out there paintin’ on the old woodshed
when a can a black paint it fell on my head.
i went down to scrub and rub
but i had to sit in back of the tub.
(cost a quarter
and i had to get out quick . . .
someone wanted to come in and take a sauna)

well, my telephone rang it would not stop,
it’s president kennedy callin’ me up.
he said, “my friend, bob, what do we need to make the country grow?”
i said, “my friend, john, brigitte bardot,
anita ekberg,
sophia loren.”
(put ’em all in the same room with ernest borgnine!)

well, i got a woman sleeps on a cot,
she yells and hollers and squeals a lot.
licks my face and tickles my ear,
bends me over and buys me beer.
(she’s a honeymooner
a june crooner
a spoon feeder
and a natural leader)

oh, there ain’t no use in me workin’ so heavy,
i got a woman who works on the levee.
pumping that water up to her neck,
every week she sends me a monthly check.
(she’s a humdinger
folk singer
dead ringer
for a thing-a-muh jigger)

late one day in the middle of the week,
eyes were closed i was half asleep.
i chased me a woman up the hill,
right in the middle of an air raid drill.
it was little bo peep!
(i jumped a fallout shelter
i jumped a bean stalk
i jumped a ferris wheel)

now, the man on the stand he wants my vote,
he’s a-runnin’ for office on the ballot note.
he’s out there preachin’ in front of the steeple,
tellin’ me he loves all kinds-a people.
(he’s eatin’ bagels
he’s eatin’ pizza
he’s eatin’ chitlins
he’s eatin’ bullsh*t!)

oh, set me down on a television floor,
i’ll flip the channel to number four.
out of the shower comes a grown-up man
with a bottle of hair oil in his hand.
(it’s that greasy kid stuff.
what i want to know, mr. football man, is
what do you do about willy mays and yul brynner,
charles de gaulle
and robert louis stevenson?)

well, the funniest woman i ever seen
was the great-granddaughter of mr. clean.
she takes about fifteen baths a day,
wants me to grow a cigar on my face.
(she’s a little bit heavy!)

well, ask me why i’m drunk alla time,

/ bob dylan lyrics