Play, it, Brother Hudson.
I'm a fly by night stealer...a folk singin' junkie
I get high when I can't find my way
I heard Colorado is good to my kind
Maybe I'll go there someday
Well my rhymes are gettin tired
My allusions are worn
I'm a preacher with nothin to say
So talk to me Dylan, show me a sign
Before I get carried away
Angels and highways and old mountian songs
A mandolin plays and the tremolo is long
Cloudy next mornins crawl under the night's parade
It's a helluva ride...this wild-eyed serenade