John Wesley Harding şarkı sözleri
The King puts on his raiment
And surveys the royal scene
And tries to put his finger on
The source of all his ennui
But when something goes, it's gone, you know
Starts at the top, spreads down
Just check out the faded bodywork
Beneath his rusted crown
They're waiting for impeachment
But they can't see the day
The queen can't give him any heirs
The word is he's to blame
So he beheads her for amusements
And now he's quoting Nietzsche
You'd think that he would have known
She was his one redeeming feature
But the king isn't dead, the king's dead boring
That's the song that the millions sing
You name it, he's lost it, he lacks everything
The king is dead boring
