Written by: Bob Dylan

Darkness at the break of noonShadows even the silver spoonThe handmade blade, the child’s balloonEclipses both the sun and moonTo understand you know too soonThere is no sense in tryingPointed threats, they bluff with scornSuicide remarks are tornFrom the fool’s gold mouthpiece the hollow hornPlays wasted words, proves to warnThat he not busy being born is busy dyingTemptation’s page flies out the doorYou follow, find yourself at warWatch waterfalls of pity roarYou feel to moan but unlike beforeYou discover that you’d just be one morePerson cryingSo don’t fear if you hearA foreign sound to your earIt’s alright, Ma, I’m only sighingAs some warn victory, some downfallPrivate reasons great or smallCan be seen in the eyes of those that callTo make all that should be killed to crawlWhile others say don’t hate nothing at allExcept hatredDisillusioned words like bullets barkAs human gods aim for their markMake everything from toy guns that sparkTo flesh-colored Christs that glow in the darkIt’s easy to see without looking too farThat not much is really sacredWhile preachers preach of evil fatesTeachers teach that knowledge waitsCan lead to hundred-dollar platesGoodness hides behind its gatesBut even the president of the United StatesSometimes must have to stand nakedAn’ though the rules of the road have been lodgedIt’s only people’s games that you got to dodgeAnd it’s alright, Ma, I can make itAdvertising signs they conYou into thinking you’re the oneThat can do what’s never been doneThat can win what’s never been wonMeantime life outside goes onAll around youYou lose yourself, you reappearYou suddenly find you got nothing to fearAlone you stand with nobody nearWhen a trembling distant voice, unclearStartles your sleeping ears to hearThat somebody thinks they really found youA question in your nerves is litYet you know there is no answer fitTo satisfy, insure you not to quitTo keep it in your mind and not forgetThat it is not he or she or them or itThat you belong toAlthough the masters make the rulesFor the wise men and the foolsI got nothing, Ma, to live up toFor them that must obey authorityThat they do not respect in any degreeWho despise their jobs, their destiniesSpeak jealously of them that are freeCultivate their flowers to beNothing more than something they invest inWhile some on principles baptizedTo strict party platform tiesSocial clubs in drag disguiseOutsiders they can freely criticizeTell nothing except who to idolizeAnd then say God bless himWhile one who sings with his tongue on fireGargles in the rat race choirBent out of shape from society’s pliersCares not to come up any higherBut rather get you down in the holeThat he’s inBut I mean no harm nor put faultOn anyone that lives in a vaultBut it’s alright, Ma, if I can’t please himOld lady judges watch people in pairsLimited in sex, they dareTo push fake morals, insult and stareWhile money doesn’t talk, it swearsObscenity, who really caresPropaganda, all is phonyWhile them that defend what they cannot seeWith a killer’s pride, securityIt blows the minds most bitterlyFor them that think death’s honestyWon’t fall upon them naturallyLife sometimes must get lonelyMy eyes collide head-on with stuffedGraveyards, false gods, I scuffAt pettiness which plays so roughWalk upside-down inside handcuffsKick my legs to crash it offSay okay, I have had enoughwhat else can you show me?And if my thought-dreams could be seenThey’d probably put my head in a guillotineBut it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only

Copyright

© 1965 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1993 by Special Rider Music