SONG INFORMATION

First recording and first release by Bob Dylan (1964)

LYRICS

I pounded on a farmhouse, lookin’ for a place to stay
I was mighty, mighty tired, I had come a long, long way
I said, “Hey, hey, in there, is there anybody home?”
I was standin’ on the steps, feelin’ most alone
When out comes a farmer, he must have thought that I was nuts
He immediately looked at me and stuck a gun into my guts

I fell down to my bended knees
Sayin’, “I dig farmers, don’t shoot me, please”
He cocked his rifle and began to shout
“Are you that travelin’ salesman that I have heard about?”
I said, “No, no, no, I’m a doctor and it’s true
I’m a clean-cut kid and I been to college, too”

Then in comes his daughter whose name was Rita
She looked like she stepped out of La Dolce Vita
I immediately tried to cool it with her dad
And told him what a nice, pretty farm he had
He said, “What do doctors know about farms, pray tell?”
I said, “I’s born at the bottom of a wishing well”

Well, by the dirt ‘neath my nails I guess he knew I wouldn’t lie
He said, “I guess you’re tired,” he said it kinda sly
I said, “Yes, ten thousand miles today I drove”
He said, “I got a bed for you underneath the stove
Just one condition an’ you can go to sleep right now
That you don’t touch my daughter
And in the morning, milk the cows”

I was sleepin’ like a rat when I heard something jerkin’
There stood Rita, lookin’ just like Tony Perkins
She said, “Would you like to take a shower?
I’ll show you up to the door”
I said, “Oh, no, no, I’ve been through this before”
I knew I had to split, but I did not know how
When she said, “Would you like to take that shower now?”

Well, I couldn’t leave unless the old man chased me out
‘Cause I’d already promised that I’d milk his cows
I had to say something to strike him very weird
So I yelled, “I like Fidel Castro and his beard”
Rita looked offended, but she got out of the way
As he came chargin’ down the stairs
Sayin’, “What’s that I heard you say?”

I said, “I like Fidel Castro, I think you heard me right”
And I ducked as he swung at me with all his might
Rita mumbled somethin’ ’bout her mother on the hill
As his fist had hit the icebox, he said he’s gonna kill me
If I don’t get out the door in two seconds flat
“You unpatriotic, rotten doctor, commie rat”

Well, he threw a Reader’s Digest at my head and I did run
I did a somersault as I seen him get his gun
And crashed through the window at a hundred miles an hour
And landed fully blast in his garden flowers
Rita said, “Come back” and he started to load
The sun was comin’ up and I was runnin’ down the road

Well, I don’t figure I’ll be back there for a spell
Even though Rita moved away and got a job at a motel
He still waits for me, constant, on the sly
He wants to turn me in to the F.B.I.
Me, I romp and stomp, thankful as I romp
Without freedom of speech I might be in the swamp

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