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. Businessman they drink my wine, Plowman dig my earth None will level on the line, nobody offered his word, hey. No reason to get excited, The thief, he kindly spoke There are many here among us Who feel that life is but a joke But you and I, we've been through that And this is not our fate So let us not talk 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 wildcat did growl Two riders were approaching And the wind began to howl buisness man there, drink my wine, Come and take my herb.