Bastard Son

Bob Dylan is my father, Joan Baez is my mother And I'm their bastard son Though my roots show through I'm just 22 I don't belong to anyone When The Band was disbanded, I was disowned I got a number you can ring me on but I ain't got no phone Got a forwarding address, baby I ain't got no home I got no direction home That's the style of a bastard child This is the song of a bastard son Uncle Lenny used to make me laugh Took away my nightmares, tore my daydreams in half Showed them to me reflected upside-down In the mirror that Suzanne Vega found Lenny's still doing his tricks today Only goes to show that growing up might pay Bruce and James were family friends Took my mind to Carolina through the New Jersey bends Gave me a harmonica when I was three Nailed a banjo to my knees Now Bruce is a foreman and James is a slave Bruce gave in and James just gave up