Tono: A
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There must be some kind of way out of here,
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Said the joker to the thief.
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There's too much confusion;
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I can't get no relief.
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Business men, they drink my wine,
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Plowmen dig my earth.
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None of them along the line.
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Know what any of it is worth.
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No reason to get excited,
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The thief, he kindly spoke.
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There are many here among us
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Who feel that life is but a joke,
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But you and I, we've been through that
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And this is not our fate,
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So let us stop talking falsely now?
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The hour is getting late.
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All along the watchtower
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princes kept the view
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while all the women came and went,
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barefoot servants too.
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Outside in the cold distance
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a wildcat did growl.
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Two riders were approaching
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and the wind began to howl.
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All along the watchtower,
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All along the watchtower,
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All along the watchtower.