You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last.
But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast.
Yonder stands your orphan with his gun,
Crying like a fire in the sun.
Look out the saints are comin' through
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.
The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense.
Take what you have gathered from coincidence.
The empty-handed painter from your streets
whatever
vagabond
through
think
under
handed
forget
better
behind
going
rowing
follow
calls
moving
gathered
folding
empty
drawing
highway
blankets
stones
streets
taken
walked
floor
patterns
another
leave
yonder
match
gamblers
sailors
sense
carpet
something
clothes
crying
coincidence
lover
sheets
armies
reindeer
painter
seasick
rapping
saints
standing
stands
crazy
orphan
start
stepping
strike
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