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Ride so swift, rain won't lift
Gate won't close, railings froze Get your mind off wintertime You aint going nowhere. Ooh, whee, ride me high Tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come Oh, no, are we gonna fly Down in the easy chair. Buy me a flute and a gun that shoots Tailgates and substitutes Strap yourself to a tree with roots You aint going nowhere. Ooh, whee, ride me high Tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come Oh, no, are we gonna fly Down in the easy chair. I don't care how many letters they sent Morning came and morning went Pack up your money, pick up your tent You aint going nowhere. Ooh, whee, ride me high Tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come Oh, no, are we gonna fly Down in the easy chair. Ghengis Khan, he could not keep All his kings supplied with sheep We'll climb that hill no matter how steep When we get up to it. Ooh, whee, ride me high Tomorrow's the day my bride's gonna come Oh, no, are we gonna fly Down in the easy chair. Copyright, Bob Dylan
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