Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands (Live)

With your mercury mouth in the missionary times
 And your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes
 And your silver cross, and your voice like chimes
 Oh, who among them do you think could bury you?
 With your pockets well protected, at last
 And your streetcar visions which you place on the grass
 And your flesh like silk, and your face like glass
 So, who among them do you think could carry you?
 Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
 Where the sad-eyed prophet say that no man comes
 My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
 Should I leave them by your gate?
 Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
 With your sheet like metal and your belt like lace
 And your deck o' cards missin' the jack and the ace
 And your basement clothes and your hollow face
 Oh, who among them do you think could outguess you?
 With your silhouette when the sunlight dims
 Into your eyes where the moonlight swims
 And your matchbook songs and your gypsy hymns
 Oh, who among them could ever impress you?
 Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
 Where the sad-eyed prophet say that no man comes
 My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
 Should I leave them by your gate?
 Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
 When the kings of Tyrus with their convict list
 Are waitin' in line for their geranium kiss
 And you wouldn't know that it would happen like this
 But who among them really wants just to kiss you?
 With your childhood flames upon your midnight rug
 And your Spanish manners and your mother's drugs
 And your cowboy mouth and your curfew plug
 Oh, who among them could ever resist you?
 Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
 Where the sad-eyed prophets say that no man comes
 My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
 Should I leave them by your gate?
 Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
 The farmers and the businessmen, they all did decide
 To show you the dead angels that you used to hide
 Oh, but why did they pick you to sympathize with your side?
 Oh, who among them could ever mistake you?
 They wish you'd accepted the blame for the farm
 And with the sea at your feet and your phony false alarm
 And with the child of a hoodlum wrapped in your arm
 Oh, who among them could ever replace you? Oh, yay
 Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
 Where the sad-eyed prophet say that no man comes
 My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
 Should I leave them by your gate?
 Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
 ♪
 With your sheet-metal memory of Cannery Row
 And your magazine husband who just one day had to go
 And your gentleness now, which you can't help but show
 Oh, who among them could ever destroy you?
 Now you stand with your thief, you're on his parole
 With your holy medallion which your fingertips hold
 And your saint-like face and your ghost-like soul
 Oh, who among them could ever employ you? Aye
 Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
 Where the sad-eyed prophet say that no man comes
 My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
 Should I leave them by your gate?
 Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
 Should I leave them by your gate?
 Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
 Yeah
 Alright
 ♪
 50 years of Blonde On Blonde