Bob Dylan - Yea! Heavy And A Bottle Of Bread

Well, the comic book and me, just us, we caught the bus The poor little chauffeur, though, she was back in bed On the very next day, with a nose full of pus Yea! Heavy and a bottle of bread Yea! Heavy and a bottle of bread Yea! Heavy and a bottle of bread It’s a one-track town, just brown, and a breeze, too Pack up the meat, sweet, we’re headin’ out For Wichita in a pile of fruit Get the loot, don’t be slow, we’re gonna catch a trout Get the loot, don’t be slow, we’re gonna catch a trout Get the loot, don’t be slow, we’re gonna catch a trout Now, pull that drummer out from behind that bottle Bring me my pipe, we’re gonna shake it Slap that drummer with a pie that smells Take me down to California, baby Take me down to California, baby Take me down to California, baby Yes, the comic book and me, just us, we caught the bus The poor little chauffeur, though, she was back in bed On the very next day, with a nose full of pus Yea! Heavy and a bottle of bread Yea! Heavy and a bottle of bread Yea! Heavy and a bottle of bread