Tweedle Dee And Tweedle Dum

Bob Dylan

Tweedle-dee Dum and Tweedle-dee Dee

They're throwing knives into the tree

Two big bags of dead man's bones

Got their noses to the grindstones



Living in the Land of Nod

Trustin' their fate to the Hands of God

They pass by so silently

Tweedle-dee Dum and Tweedle-dee Dee



Well, they're going to the country, they're gonna retire

They're taking a streetcar named Desire

Looking in the window at the pecan pie

Lot of things they'd like they would never buy



Neither one gonna turn and run

They're making a voyage to the sun

"His Master's voice is calling me,"

Says Tweedle-dee Dum to Tweedle-dee Dee



Tweedle-dee Dee and Tweedle-dee Dum

All that and more and then some

They walk among the stately trees

They know the secrets of the breeze



Tweedle-dee Dum said to Tweedle-dee Dee

"Your presence is obnoxious to me."

They're like babies sittin' on a woman's knee

Tweedle-dee Dum and Tweedle-dee Dee



Well, the rain beating down on my windowpane

I got love for you and it's all in vain

Brains in the pot, they're beginning to boil

They're dripping with garlic and olive oil



Tweedle-dee Dee - he's on his hands and his knees

Saying, "Throw me somethin', Mister, please."

"What's good for you is good for me,"

Says Tweedle-dee Dum to Tweedle-dee Dee



Well, they're living in a happy harmony

Tweedle-dee Dum and Tweedle-dee Dee

They're one day older and a dollar short

They've got a parade permit and a police escort



They're lying low and they're makin' hay

They seem determined to go all the way

They run a brick and tile company

Tweedle-dee Dum and Tweedle-dee Dee



Well a childish dream is a deathless need

And a noble truth is a sacred creed

My pretty baby, she's lookin' around

She's wearin' a multi-thousand dollar gown



Tweedle-dee De

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