[Originally by Bob Dylan]

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

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

All along the watchtower
Princes kept the view
While horsemen came and went
Barefoot servants, too

Outside in the distance
A wildcat did growl,
Two riders were approaching,
The wind began to howl.