Fourth Time Around - Live at Free Trade Hall, Manchester, UK - May 17, 1966

When she said, "Don't waste your words, they're just lies"
 I cried she was deaf
 And she worked on my face until breaking my eyes
 And saying, "What else you got left?"
 It was then that I got up to leave
 But she said, "Don't forget
 Everybody must give something back
 For something they get"
 I stood there and hummed, I tapped on her drum
 I asked her how come
 And she buttoned her boot, and straightened her suit
 And she said, "Don't be cute"
 So, I forced my hands in my pockets
 And felt with my thumbs
 And gallantly handed her my very last piece of gum
 She threw me outside, I stood in the dirt
 Where everyone walked
 But when finding I'd forgotten my shirt
 I went back and knocked
 I waited in the hallway, she went to get it
 And I tried to make sense
 Out of that picture of you in your wheelchair
 That leaned up against
 Her Jamaican rum, and when she did come
 I asked her for some
 She said, "No, dear," I said, "Your words aren't clear
 You'd better spit out your gum"
 She screamed 'til her face got so red
 Then she fell on the floor
 I covered her up and then went and look through her drawer
 And, when I was through, I filled up my shoe
 And brought it to you
 And you, you took me in, you loved me then
 You didn't waste time
 And I, I never took much, I never asked for your crutch
 Now don't ask for mine