4.All Along the Watchtower
Lyricist：Bob Dylan
'There must be some kind of way outta here'
Said the joker to the thief
There's too much confusion
I can't get no relief
Businessmen, they drink my wine
Plowman dig my earth
None were level on the mind
Nobody up at his word
'No reason to get excited'
The thief he kindly spoke
There are many here among us
Who feel that life is but a joke
But, but you and I, we've been through that
And this is not our fate
So, let us stop talkin' falsely now
The hour's getting late
All along the watchtower
Princes kept the view
While all the women came and went
Barefoot servants, too
Outside in the cold distance
A wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl
All along the watchtower
All along the watchtower
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