You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked and you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard but you don't understand
Just what you'll say when you get home
Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You raise up your head and you ask, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says, "It's his"
And you say, "What's mine?", and somebody else says, "Where what is?"
And you say, "Oh my God, am I here all alone?"
Something is happening
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You hand in your ticket and you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you when he hears you speak
And says, "How does it feel to be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible" as he hands you a bone
And something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You have many contacts among the lumberjacks to get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect, anyway they already expect you to all give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations
You've been with the professors and they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well read, it's well known
Something is happening here
And you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
The sword swallower, he comes up to you and then he kneels
He crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice he asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back, thanks for the loan"
And you know something is happening
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
Now you see this one-eyed midget shouting the word "Now"
And you say "For what reason?", and he says, "How?"
And you say, "What does this mean?", and he screams back "You're a cow
Give me some milk, or else go home"
And you don't know what's happening
You don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You walk into the room like a camel, then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket and your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law against you comin' around
You should be made to wear earphones
'Cause something is happening
And you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
Cette chanson est une reprise. Sa version originale a été créée par
Bob Dylan
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