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My Wife’s Home Town
I just came here to hear the drummer’s cymbal ring
There ain’t no way you can put me down
I just want to say that Hell’s my wife’s home town
Well there’s reasons for that and reasons for this
I can’t think of any just now, but I know they exist
I’m sitting in the sun ‘til my skin turns brown
I just want to say that Hell’s my wife’s home town
Home town, home town
She can make you steal, make you rob
Give you the hives, make you lose your job
Make things bad, she can make things worse
She got stuff more potent than a gypsy curse
One of these days, I’ll end up on the run
I’m pretty sure she’ll make me kill someone
I’m going inside, roll the shutters down
I just want to say that Hell’s my wife’s home town
Well there’s plenty to remember, plenty to forget
I still can remember the day we met
I lost my reason long ago
My love for her is all I know
State gone broke, the county’s dry
Don’t be looking at me with that evil eye
Keep on walking, don’t be hanging around
I’m telling you again that Hell’s my wife’s home town
Home town, home town
- Escrita por: Bob Dylan with Robert Hunter y Willie Dixon
- Ⓒ Copyright: 2009 by Special Rider Music; Ice Nine Publishing and Hoochie Coochie Music
- Publicada en los Discos:
- Together Through Life