I was ridin' on the Mayflower when i thought i spied some land I yelled for captain Arab, i have you understand Who came runnin' to the deck, said, "Boys forget the whale, Look on over yonder, cut the engines, change the sail, Haul on the bow line''. We sang that melody Like all tough sailors do when they're far away at sea. "I think i call it America'', i said as we hit land I took a deep breath, i fell down, i could not stand Captain Arab he started writin' up some deeds He said, "Let's set up a fort an' start buyin' the place with beads.'' Just then this cop comes down the street crazy as a loon An' throws us all in jail for carryin' harpoons. Ah me i busted out, don't even ask me how I went to get some help, i walked by a Guernsey cow Who directed me down to the Bowery slums Were people carried signs around, sayin', "Ban the bums'' I jumped right into line, sayin', "I hope that i'm not late.'' When i realized i hadn't eaten for five days straight. I went into a restaurant lookin' for the cook I told him i was the editor of a famous etiquette book The waitress he was handsome, he wore a powder blue cap I ordered some suzette, i said, "Could you please make that crepe'' Just then the whole kitchen exploded from boiling fat Food was flyin' everywhere, i left without my hat. Now i didn't mean to be nosy but i went into a bank To get some bail for Arab an' all the boys back in the tank They asked me for some collateral an' i pulled down my pants They threw me in the alley when up comes this girl from France Who invited me to her house, i went but she had a friend Who knocked me out an' robbed my boots an' i was on the street again. Well i rapped upon a house with the U.S. flag upon display I said could you help me out, i got some friends down the way The man said, "Get out of here, i'll tear you limb from limb'' I said, "You know they refused jesus too'', he said, "You're not him, Get out of here Before i break your bones, i ain't your pope.'' I decided to have him arrested an' i went lookin' for a cop. I ran right outside, i hopped inside a cab I went out the other door, this englishman said "Fab!'' As he saw me leap a hot dog stand an' a chariot that stand Parked across a building advertisin' brotherhood I ran right thru the front door like a hobo sailor does But it was just the funeral parlor an' the man asked me who i was. I repeated that my friends were all in jail, with a sigh He gave his card, he said, "Call me if they die.'' I shook his hand and said goodbye ran out to the street When a bowlin' ball came down the road an' knocked me off my feet A pay phone was ringin', it just about blew my mind When i picked it up and said, "Hello'', this foot came thru the line. Well by this time i's fed up at tryin' to make a stab At bringin' back any help for my friends an' captain Arab I decided to flip a coin like either heads ot tails Would let me know if i should go back to ship or back to jail So i hocked my sailor's suit an' i got a coin to flip It came up tails, it rhymed with sails so i made it back to the ship. Well i got back an' took the parkin ticket off the mast I was rippin' it to shreds when this coast guard boat went past They ask me my name an' i said, "Captain Kidd'' They believed me but they wanted to know what exactly that i did I said for the pope of Eruke, i was employed They let me go right away, they were very paranoid. Well the last i heard of Arab, he was stuck on the whale That was married to the deputy sheriff of the jail But the funniest thing was when i was leavin' the bay I saw three ships a-sailin', they were all headin' my way I asked the captain what is name was an' how come he didn't drive a truck He said his name was Colombus, i just said, "Good luck.''

Produced by Tom Wilson Photography by Daniel Kramer i'm standing there watching the parade/ feeling combination of sleepy john estes. jayne mansfield. humphry bogart/morti- mer snerd. murph the surf and so forth/ erotic hitchhiker wearing japanese blanket. gets my attention by asking didn't he see me at this hootenanny down in puerto vallarta, mexico/i say no you must be mistaken. i happen to be one of the Supremes/then he rips off his blanket an' suddenly becomes a middle-aged druggist. up for district attorney. he starts scream- ing at me you're the one. you're the one that's been causing all them riots over in vietnam. immediately turns t' a bunch of people an' says if elected, he'll have me electrocuted publicly on the next fourth of july. i look around an' all these people he's talking to are carrying blowtorches/ needless t' say, i split fast go back t' the nice quiet country. am standing there writing WHAAT? on my favorite wall when who should pass by in a jet plane but my recording engineer "i'm here t' pick up you and your lastest works of art. do you need any help with anything?'' (pause) my songs're written with the kettledrum in mind/a touch of any anxious color. un- mentionable. obvious. an' people perhaps like a soft brazilian singer . . . i have given up at making any attempt at perfection/ the fact that the white house is filled with leaders that've never been t' the apollo theater amazes me. why allen ginsberg was not chosen t' read poetry at the inauguration boggles my mind/if someone thinks norman mailer is more important than hank williams that's fine. i have no arguments an' i never drink milk. i would rather model har- monica holders than discuss aztec anthropology/ english literature. or history of the united nations. i accept chaos. I am not sure whether it accepts me. i know there're some people terrified of the bomb. but there are other people terrified t' be seen carrying a modern screen magazine. experience teaches that silence terrifies people the most . . . i am convinced that all souls have some superior t' deal with/like the school system, an invisible circle of which no one can think without consulting someone/in the face of this, responsibility/security, success mean absolutely nothing. . . i would not want t' be bach. mozart. tolstoy. joe hill. gertrude stein or james dean/they are all dead. the Great books've been written. the Great sayings have all been said/I am about t' sketch You a picture of what goes on around here some- times. though I don't understand too well myself what's really happening. i do know that we're all gonna die someday an' that no death has ever stopped the world. my poems are written in a rhythm of unpoetic distortion/ divided by pierced ears. false eyelashes/sub- tracted by people constantly torturing each other. with a melodic purring line of descriptive hollowness -- seen at times through dark sunglasses an' other forms of psychic explosion. a song is anything that can walk by itself/i am called a songwriter. a poem is a naked person . . . some people say that i am a poet (end of pause) an' so i answer my recording engineer "yes. well i could use some help in getting this wall in the plane" -- By Bob Dylan