Wichita (Going to Louisiana) - Bob Dylan

Oh, when I left for Wichita

The weather was a-killin' me.

And when I left Wichita

The weather was a-killin' me.

Well, my poppa said, «Son,

Watch out, you might catch that old TB.»

When I landed in West Memphis

I sure did not have a dime.

When I landed in West Memphis

I sure didn’t have a dime.

Operator said, «Son,

Boy, you ain’t no friend of mine.»

Operator, operator

Let that poor boy ride.

Operator, operator, oh Let that poor boy ride.

Can’t you see me on your road,

Lord, I’m singing down by the side.

I’m going down to Louisiana, oh Mamma, where that red-green river runs.

I’m going down to Louisiana

Mamma, where that red-green river runs, yes.

You can write and tell my mamma

My ramblin' days have just begun.