I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU DO, I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY / I DON'T CARE WHERE YOU GO (PRISON) OR HOW LONG YOU STAY (or how much time you serve, as I did a year at MDC) / SOMEDAY BABY, YOU AIN'T GONNA WORRY PO' ME ANY MORE (someday I am going to settle up with you)

WELL YOU TAKE MY MONEY (power, my uncanny ability) / AND YOU TURN IT OUT (turn it out from itself, exteriorize it. ...also you crank out your interpretations, exegesis’s) / YOU FILL ME UP (put material into a hole, into a cavity, into words that seem empty of normal meaning etc) WITH NOTHIN' BUT SELF DOUBT (with mechanical translations that even make Dylan wonder about the value of his own poetry. I “depreciate” the value of his poetry). WHEN I WAS YOUNG, DRIVING (total motivation of behavior compelling or forcing or urging relentlessly, or exerting coercive pressure on, or motivating strongly also driving as in riding in a car going somewhere in life) was my crave (as was my craving for heroin and a craving for fame; Also Dylan was craven when it came to fighting against the genocidal war in Vietnam) / YOU DRIVE ME SO HARD (force me to move in a stern cold manner) ALMOST TO THE GRAVE (almost to the point of killing you - grave - literary Death. Form: the grave).

I'M SO HARD PRESSED, (esoteric drug slang for a type of drug that is highly compressed in a block or kilo brick, also someone who needs a garbage compactor also missing a person who can truly explain my poetry) / MY MIND TIED UP IN KNOTS (my brain entangled with drugs, it is many nautical miles away, my poetry is like a Gordian knot) I KEEP RECYCLING THE SAME OLD THOUGHTS (and all I hear is how you have recycled my garbage into a media commodity, also I stick with a repetitive theme glorifying heroin ) / SOMEDAY BABY, YOU AIN'T GONNA WORRY PO' ME ANY MORE / SO MANY GOOD THINGS IN LIFE THAT I OVERLOOKED (I viewed from a higher position, that I pretended did not exist in favor of smack) / I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO NOW, YOU GOT ME SO HOOKED (I am in a “fix”).

WELL, I DON'T WANT TO BRAG, BUT I'M GONNA RING YOUR NECK (I am going to physically assault you which Dylan did on Elizabeth Street - “the laughter down on Elizabeth Street…bathed in his pure white heat from Dylan’s Where Are You Tonight?) / WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS I'LL MAKE IT A MATTER OF SELF RESPECT (I insulted his wife when she caught me going through her garbage and macho Dylan had to attack me) / SOMEDAY BABY, YOU AIN'T GONNA WORRY PO' ME ANY MORE

YOU CAN TAKE YOUR CLOTHES (words, as meaning clothed in words) put 'em in a sack (and lump them together as those that plunder, pillage and destroy my poetry) / YOU GOIN' DOWN THE ROAD, BABY AND YOU CAN'T COME BACK (you are advancing in life but will never be able to make a “come back” and be famous once again) / SOMEDAY BABY, YOU AIN'T GONNA WORRY PO' ME ANY MORE

I TRIED TO BE FRIENDLY, I TRIED TO BE KIND (Dylan was nice to me, offered me a job as his chauffer, prompter, roadie. Said he would give me guitar lessons if I wanted to be a rock star) / I'M GONNA DRIVE YOU FROM YOUR HOME (now he is going to make sure I never reach my goal, drive me from where I live, make me a homeless fuck) JUST LIKE I WAS DRIVEN FROM MINE (just as I did to Dylan as he had to leave MacDougall Street in Greenwich Village after I had a 30th Birthday Party in front of his crib) / SOMEDAY BABY, YOU AIN'T GONNA WORRY PO' ME ANY MORE / LIVING THIS WAY AIN'T A NATURAL THING TO DO / WHY WAS I BORN TO LOVE YOU? / SOMEDAY BABY, YOU AIN'T GONNA WORRY PO' ME ANY MORE