Well I went to bed late last night
Woke up even later in a sudden fright
And what do you think I saw at the foot of my bed?
Bob Dylan! I thought I was dead
And gone to heaven, 'cause he's one of my favorite folk singers.
I said, "What brings you here, Bob?"
And he said, "I'm just ramblin' through."
I offered him a chair,
I didn't know what else to do,
And then he saw my guitar in the corner.
Hand made, by a friend of mine.
He asked if he could play, and I said fine,
So he started to sing for me: "Hey, mister tambourine man, play a song for me!"
But I had to ask him to hold it down, because the neighbors have a baby,
And it might get disturbed.
So he sat a minute, and then he asked me the same question:
"What brings you here, Arlo?" and I gave him the same answer:
"Just ramblin' through.
"Playing for people when I have a chance,
"Try to make 'em sing, make 'em dance,
"Or just sit and smile a little.
"And just trying to get by the rest of the time,
"You know how it is," I said, and he said,
"Yeah, I know how it is.
"But it's been a long, long time for me,
"'Cause I'm a superstar, you see!"
And I said, "Yeah ... and by the way, how'd you get there, Bob?"
And he said, "That's a secret."
"Oh, come on," I begged him then,
"I'll let you play my guitar again!"
But he wouldn't say anything about it.
He did tell me about his houses and his cars for a while,
And then he got up, with a smile, and said, "I gotta go."
I said, "Where you headed now, Bob?"
And he said, "Just ramblin' on."