Lyrics All Along the Watchtower - T.S.O.L.

All Along the Watchtower

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
Businessmen, they drink my wine
Plowmen dig my earth
None of them along the line
Know what any of it is worth
No reason to get excited
The thief, he kindly spoke
There are many here among us
Who feel that life is nothing 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
For the hour’s getting late
All along the watchtower
Princes kept the view
While all the women came and went
And barefoot servants too
Outside in the distance
A wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl
Two riders were approaching
Two riders were approaching
Two riders were approaching
Two riders were approaching