- Song Name: Motorpsycho Nitemare
- Artist Name: Bob Dylan
- Album: Another Side of Bob Dylan
- Songwriter: Bob Dylan
- Release Date: 1964.08.08
- Label: Columbia
LYRICS FOR "Motorpsycho Nitemare"
I pounded on a farmhouse
Lookin' for a place to stay
I was mighty
I had gone a long
I said
Is there anybody home?"
I was standin' on the steps
Feelin' most alone
Well
He must have thought that I was nuts
He immediately looked at me
And stuck a gun into my guts
I fell down
To my bended knees
Saying
Don't shoot me
He cocked his rifle
And began to shout
"You're that travelin' salesman
That I have heard about"
I said
I'm a doctor and it's true
I'm a clean-cut kid
And I been to college
Then in comes his daughter
Whose name was Rita
She looked like she stepped out of
La Dolce Vita
I immediately tried to
Cool it with her dad
And told him
What a nice
He said
Know about farms
I said
At the bottom of a wishing well"
Well
I guess he knew I wouldn't lie
"I guess you're tired"
He said
I said
Today I drove"
He said
Underneath the stove"
"Just one condition
And you go to sleep right now
That you don't touch my daughter
And in the morning
I was sleepin' like a rat
When I heard something jerkin'
There stood Rita
Lookin' just like Tony Perkins
She said
I'll show you up to the door"
I said
I've been through this before"
I knew I had to split
But I didn't know how
When she said
"Would you like to take that shower
Well
Unless the old man chased me out
'Cause I'd already promised
That I'd milk his cows
I had to say something
To strike him very weird
So I yelled out
"I like Fidel Castro and his beard"
Rita looked offended
But she got out of the way
As he came charging down the stairs
Sayin'
I said
I think you heard me right"
And ducked as he swung
At me with all his might
Rita mumbled something
'Bout her mother on the hill
As his fist hit the icebox
He said he's going to kill me
If I don't get out the door
In two seconds flat
"You unpatriotic
Rotten doctor Commie rat"
Well
At my head and I did run
I did a somersault
As I seen him get his gun
And crashed through the window
At a hundred miles an hour
And landed fully blast
In his garden flowers
Rita said
As he started to load
The sun was comin' up
And I was runnin' down the road
Well
There for a spell
Even though Rita moved away
And got a job in a motel
He still waits for me
Constant
He wants to turn me in
To the FBI
Me
Thankful as I romp
Without freedom of speech
I might be in the swamp
© SPECIAL RIDER MUSIC