(Bob Dylan)

He sits in your room, his tomb, with a fist full of tacks

Preoccupied with his vengeance

Cursing the dead that can't answer him back

I'm sure that he has no intentions

Of looking your way, unless it's to say

That he needs you to test his inventions.



Can you please crawl out your window?

Use your arms and legs it won't ruin you

How can you say he will haunt you?

You can go back to him any time you want to.



He looks so truthful, is this how he feels

Trying to peel the moon and expose it

With his businesslike anger and his bloodhounds that kneel

If he needs a third eye he just grows it

He just needs you to talk or to hand him his chalk

Or pick it up after he throws it.



Can you please crawl out your window?

Use your arms and legs it won't ruin you

How can you say he will haunt you?

You can go back to him any time you want to.



Why does he look so righteous while your face is so changed

Are you frightened of the box you keep him in

While his genocide fools and his friends rearrange

Their religion of the little ten women

That backs up their views but your face is so bruised

Come on out the dark is beginning.



Can you please crawl out your window?

Use your arms and legs it won't ruin you

How can you say he will haunt you?

You can go back to him any time you want to.