California

California - Bob Dylan

I'm goin' down south

'Neath the borderline

I'm goin' down south

'Neath the borderline

Some fat momma

Kissed my mouth one time

Well I needed it this morning

Without a shadow of doubt

I needed it this morning

Without a shadow of doubt

My suitcase is packed

My clothes are hangin' out

San Francisco's fine

You sure get lots of sun

San Francisco is fine

You sure get lots of sun

But I'm used to four seasons

California's got but one

Well I got my dark sunglasses

I got for good luck my black tooth

I got my dark sunglasses

And for good luck I got my black tooth

Don't ask me nothin' about nothin'

I just might tell you the truth