Thirsty Boots

Bob Dylan

You've long been on the open road,
You've been sleeping in the rain,
From the dirty words and muddy cells
Your clothes are smeared and stained,
But the dirty words and muddy cells
Will soon be judged insane
So only stop and rest yourself
Till you are off again

And take off your thirsty boots
and stay for a while,
Your feet are hot and weary,
from a dusty mile,
And maybe I can make you laugh,
maybe I can try,
I'm just looking for the evening,
and the morning in your eye.

Now, tell me of the ones you saw,
As far as you could see,
Across the plain from field to town
A-marching to be free
And of the rusted prison gates
That tumbled by degree
Like laughing children, one by one,
who look like you and me

I know you are no stranger
down the crooked rainbow trails
From dancing cliff-edged shattered sills
Of slandered, shackled jails
But the voices drift up from below
As the walls are being scaled
Yes, all of this, and more, my friend,
Your song shall not be failed.