The Bob Dylan lyric pastiche thread

FinsburyParkCarrots

Well, I'll tell ya now jammers, un' make it real plain
as plain as young Abel spoke out to bro Cain,
the moment before he got hit un' was slain:
this here's a real fine competition.

Now ya don't win no money un' don't win no fame:
Ya don't win no nuthin' to further your name
like a president likes tuh shout "Valerie Plame"
while pushing for nuclear fission.

So, jammers, come singin', un' pick up your pen:
Don't matter, y'all, if you're women or men.
Just write me a song like Dah Bob, or write ten!:
Just rise to the task an' this mission .....


(Cue harmonica solo)

olderman

Hey!! Mr. Foul Latrine Man,
Squeeze a fart and pee,
There’s an entourage a waiting,
For a new song

Hey! Mr. Soul Singing Man,
Sing that song with glee,
In some bingo parlor’s still life,
Will go flowing with you.

Let’s trip over acid placed directly in the eye,
My sense of this is flip,
And my eyes can’t see the ship,
As your hands wave over here,
Does it matter that
I’ve lost your red direction?

A trip to most off anywhere is what we really need,
I think I’ll cry and bleed,
As my eyes begin to rip,
From a thousand coins of flight,
To a million stars at night,
I promise to go Florida…

Grasshopper

I see like a head of thousand eyes
my cadillac rittles a thirsty suprise
frall the on lookers not blinkin them eyes
whatched me burn untill my demise

They shout about devil's and fat hurricanes
like a picture of life overpouring with rain
loosing your mind s'olny way to keep sane
live how you like s'only way to keep sake

little hands reach for the future
God forbid that they pull somethin back