| Well, I gotta get the world off my back
|
| Or pretty soon I’m gonna crack
|
| So I gotta get the world off my back
|
| Somehow
|
| Babe
|
| I’m sitting here thinking about the poems
|
| I used to write when I was just a little boy
|
| About that when I grew up
|
| Everything will be just fine
|
| Fancy clothes, cigars, drive the best cars
|
| But now I’ve grown up
|
| And I gotta get the world off my back
|
| My mind is beginning to go black
|
| So I gotta get the world off my back
|
| Somehow
|
| Babe
|
| I grew up and looked around me
|
| And I saw that the world was in a mess
|
| Thousands of hungry people
|
| Children starving, wars, injustice
|
| And everybody kept picking on me
|
| So I gotta get the world off my back
|
| Or pretty soon I’m gonna crack
|
| So I gotta get the world off my back
|
| Somehow
|
| Babe
|
| So I gotta get the world off my back
|
| My mind is beginning to go black
|
| So I gotta get the world off my back
|
| Somehow
|
| Babe |