Bob Dylan dropped by my house
Two cigarettes hanging from his mouth
Fell asleep in my easy chair
Dropped his goddamn ashes everywhere
Left a picture of his kids on my book shelf
Said he never gets a chance to express himself
So he snored and snored the whole night thru
And Bob don't snore like me or you
Alan Lomax lived with me
Kept unplugging my new TV
Slept with an ax underneath his bed
To keep me pure is what he said
Well he ate me out of house and home
Drank all my beer monopolized my phone
Played Leadbelly records all the time
Put his name on all that was mine
Chorus:
I'm a stanger in New York
Met a record exec in an evening gown
Who said she really liked my sound
Then she called security
Wiped his c**aine on my shirt sleeve
Threw me out into some street
Named with a number they think that's neat
Corner of 50 something and 100 and what
Taxis all keep their yellow doors shut
And all those Afghani taxi drivers are saying
"we don't pick up no folk singers anymore….
Why don't you go back to Minneapolis?"
I said I don't live in Minneapolis Mr. Afghani taxi driver
I'm from Scranton Pennsylvania
And he said "Scranton Pennsylvania? I thought Harry Chapin made that place up?"
No it's real. I got the bananas to prove it…