(B. Dylan) Well, I ride on a mailtrain, baby, Can't buy a thrill. Well, I've been up all night, baby, Leanin' on the window sill. Well, if I die On top of the hill And if I don't make it, You know my baby will. And if I don't make it, You know my baby will. Now the wintertime is coming, The windows are filled with frost. I went to tell everybody, But I could not get across. Well, I wanna be your lover, baby, I don't wanna be your boss. Don't say I never warned you When your train gets lost. Don't say I never warned you When your train gets lost.
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