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Bob Dylan is my father, Joan Baez is my mother
And I'm their bastard son
Though my roots show through I'm just 22
I don't belong to anyone
When The Band was disbanded, I was disowned
I got a number you can ring me on but I ain't got no phone
Got a forwarding address, baby I ain't got no home
I got no direction home
That's the style of a bastard child
This is the song of a bastard son
Uncle Lenny used to make me laugh
Took away my nightmares, tore my daydreams in half
Showed them to me reflected upside-down
In the mirror that Suzanne Vega found
Lenny's still doing his tricks today
Only goes to show that growing up might pay
Bruce and James were family friends
Took my mind to Carolina through the New Jersey bends
Gave me a harmonica when I was three
Nailed a banjo to my knees
Now Bruce is a foreman and James is a slave
Bruce gave in and James just gave up
HATA BİLDİR
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