SI'! PESANTE ED UNA BOTTIGLIA DI PANE
parole e musica Bob Dylan

Bene, il fumetto ed io, noi soli, abbiamo preso il bus.
La povera piccola autista, tuttavia, era tornata a letto
Subito il giorno dopo col naso pieno di pus
Sì! Pesante ed una bottiglia di pane
Sì! Pesante ed una bottiglia di pane
Sì! Pesante ed una bottiglia di pane

E' una città a senso unico, ed una brezza, pure
impacchetta la carne, dolcezza, siamo diretti
verso Wichita in un carico di frutta
Afferra il bottino, muoviti, acchiapperemo una trota
Afferra il bottino, muoviti, acchiapperemo una trota
Afferra il bottino, muoviti, acchiapperemo una trota

Ora, fà uscire quel batterista dalla bottiglia,
portami la mia pipa, diamoci una mossa,
schiaffeggia il batterista con una torta profumata
Portami in California, bimba
Portami in California, bimba
Portami in California, bimba

Già, il fumetto ed io, noi soli, abbiamo preso il bus
La povera piccola autista, tuttavia, era tornata a letto
Subito il giorno dopo col naso pieno di pus
Sì! Pesante ed una bottiglia di pane
Sì! Pesante ed una bottiglia di pane
Sì! Pesante ed una bottiglia di pane

YEA! HEAVY AND A BOTTLE OF BREAD
words and music 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

                           It's a one-track town, just brown, and a breeze,
                           too,
                           Pack up the meat, sweet, we're headin' out
                           For Wichita in a pile of fruit.
                           Get the loot, don't be slow, we're gonna catch a
                           trout
                           Get the loot, don't be slow, we're gonna catch a
                           trout
                           Get the loot, don't be slow, we're gonna catch a
                           trout

                           Now, pull that drummer out from behind that bottle.
                           Bring me my pipe, we're 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