by Bob Dylan



The guilty undertaker sighs,

The lonesome organ grinder cries,

The silver saxophones say I should refuse you.

The cracked bells and washed-out horns

Blow into my face with scorn,

But it's not that way,

I wasn't born to lose you.

I want you, I want you,

I want you so bad,

Honey, I want you.



The drunken politician leaps

Upon the street where mothers weep

And the saviors who are fast asleep,

They wait for you.

And I wait for them to interrupt

Me drinkin' from my broken cup

And ask me to

Open up the gate for you.

I want you, I want you,

I want you so bad,

Honey, I want you.



Now all my fathers, they've gone down

True love they've been without it.

But all their daughters put me down

'Cause I don't think about it.



Well, I return to the Queen of Spades

And talk with my chambermaid.

She knows that I'm not afraid

To look at her.

She is good to me

And there's nothing she doesn't see.

She knows where I'd like to be

But it doesn't matter.

I want you, I want you,

I want you so bad,

Honey, I want you.



Now your dancing child with his Chinese suit,

He spoke to me, I took his flute.

No, I wasn't very cute to him,

Was I?

But I did it, though, because he lied

Because he took you for a ride

And because time was on his side

And because I . . .

I want you, I want you,

I want you so bad,

Honey, I want you.