Elliott Smith - Ballad of a Thin Man (Bob Dylan cover) lyrics

You walk in the room With a pencil in your hand You see somebody naked And you say, "Who is that man?" You try so hard But you just don't understand What you're going to say when you get home Something is happening But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? You raise up your head And ask, "Is this where it is?" Somebody points to you and says "It's his" You say, "What's mine?" And somebody else says, "Where what is?" And you say, "Oh my God Am I here all alone?" Something is happening But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? You turn in your ticket And go watch the geek Who immediately walks up to you When he hears you speak And says, "How does it feel To be such a freak?" You say, "Impossible" As he hands you a bone Because something is happening But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? You have many contacts Among the lumberjacks Who get you facts When somebody attacks your imagination But nobody has any respect Anyway they already expect You to write a check To tax-deductible charity organizations You've been with the professors And they all liked your looks With great lawyers you've Discussed lepers and crooks You've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books You're very well read It's well known But something is happening And you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? Well, the sword swallower walks up to you And then he kneels He crosses himself And then he clicks his high heels And without further notice Asks you how it feels And he says, "Here is your throat back Thanks for the loan" And you know something is happening But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? Now you see a one-eyed midget Shouting the word "NOW" And you say, "For what reason?" He says, "How?" You say, "What does this mean?" And he screams back, "You're a cow Give me some milk Or else go home" You know something is happening But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? Well, you walk into the room Like a camel and then you frown You put your eyes in your pocket And your nose on the ground There ought to be a law Against you coming around You should be made to wear earphones Something is happening And you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones?