Texty: Bob Dylan. Fourth Time Around.

When she said, "Don't waste your words, they're just lies"
I cried she was deaf
And she worked on my face until breaking my eyes
Then said, "What else you got left?"

It was then that I got up to leave
But she said, "Don't forget
Everybody must give something back
For something they get"

I stood there and hummed, I tapped on her drum
And asked her how come
And she buttoned her boot, and straightened her suit
Then she said, "Don't get cute"

So I forced my hands in my pockets
And felt with my thumbs
And gallantly handed her
My very last piece of gum

She threw me outside, I stood in the dirt
Where everyone walked.
And after finding I'd forgotten my shirt
I went back and knocked

I waited in the hallway, she went to get it
And I tried to make sense
Out of that picture of you in your wheelchair
That leaned up against

Her Jamaican rum, and when she did come
I asked her for some.
She said, "No, dear", I said, "Your words aren't clear
You'd better spit out your gum"

She screamed till her face got so red
Then she fell on the floor
And I covered her up and then
Thought I'd go look through her drawer

And, when I was through, I filled up my shoe
And brought it to you
And you, you took me in, you loved me then
You never wasted time
And I, I never took much, I never asked for your crutch
Now don't ask for mine