Bob Dylan

Well, the comic book and me, just us, we caught the bus.
The poor little chauffeur, though, she was back in bed
On the very next day, with a nose full of pus.
Yea! Heavy and a bottle of bread
Yea! Heavy and a bottle of bread
Yea! Heavy and a bottle of bread
Its a one-track town, just brown, and a breeze, too,
Pack up the meat, sweet, were headin out
For Wichita in a pile of fruit.
Get the loot, dont be slow, were gonna catch a trout
Get the loot, dont be slow, were gonna catch a trout
Get the loot, dont be slow, were gonna catch a trout
Now, pull that drummer out from behind that bottle.
Bring me my pipe, were gonna shake it.
Slap that drummer with a pie that smells.
Take me down to California, baby
Take me down to California, baby
Take me down to California, baby
Yes, the comic book and me, just us, we caught the bus.
The poor little chauffeur, though, she was back in bed
On the very next day, with a nose full of pus.
Yea! Heavy and a bottle of bread
Yea! Heavy and a bottle of bread
Yea! Heavy and a bottle of bread
[ Yea! Heavy And A Bottle Of Bread Lyrics ]