Fita-crepe

All along the watchtower

Fita-crepe
There must be some kind of way out of here
Said the joker to the thief
There's too much confusion
I can't get no relief

Business men they drink my wine
Plowmen dig my earth
None with a level on their mind
Nobody out of this world

No reason to get excited
The thief he kindly spoke
There are many here among us
Who think that life is but a joke

But you and I, we've been through that
And this is not our fate
So let stop talking falsely now
The hour is getting late

All along the watchtower
Princes kept the view
While all the women came and went
Barefoot servants too

Outside in the cold distance
A wild cat did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl

All along the tower

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