Man on the Street
Written by: Bob Dylan
I’ll sing you a song, ain’t very long
’Bout an old man who never done wrong
How he died nobody can say
They found him dead in the street one day
Well, the crowd, they gathered one fine morn
At the man whose clothes ’n’ shoes were torn
There on the sidewalk he did lay
They stopped ’n’ stared ’n’ walked their way
Well, the p’liceman come and he looked around
“Get up, old man, or I’m a-takin’ you down”
He jabbed him once with his billy club
And the old man then rolled off the curb
Well, he jabbed him again and loudly said
“Call the wagon; this man is dead”
The wagon come, they loaded him in
I never saw the man again
I’ve sung you my song, it ain’t very long
’Bout an old man who never done wrong
How he died no one can say
They found him dead in the street one day
’Bout an old man who never done wrong
How he died nobody can say
They found him dead in the street one day
Well, the crowd, they gathered one fine morn
At the man whose clothes ’n’ shoes were torn
There on the sidewalk he did lay
They stopped ’n’ stared ’n’ walked their way
Well, the p’liceman come and he looked around
“Get up, old man, or I’m a-takin’ you down”
He jabbed him once with his billy club
And the old man then rolled off the curb
Well, he jabbed him again and loudly said
“Call the wagon; this man is dead”
The wagon come, they loaded him in
I never saw the man again
I’ve sung you my song, it ain’t very long
’Bout an old man who never done wrong
How he died no one can say
They found him dead in the street one day
Copyright © 1962, 1965 by Duchess Music Corporation; renewed 1990, 1993 by MCA