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At the age of nineteen, I was young, I was keen
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And I had just one burning ambition:
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To be a folksinger, a dope-smoking swinger
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Singing songs that were steeped in tradition
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So I bought a guitar and I practiced real hard
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I wasn't much good, but I was willin'
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Till to my chagrin, my girlfriend came in
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And she said: “Can you sing any Dylan?”

I said “No! No! A thousand times no!
I'd rather see my lifeblood spillin'
I'll sing anything, even 'God Save The King'
But I just won't sing any “Bob Dylan”

And with my guitar I traveled real far,
Trying to gain recognition
I sang 'The Wild Rover' from Dundee to Dover
In pubs, clubs and in seaman's missions
I travelled the road for seven long years
My pace, it really was killin'
And wherever I went from Scotland to Kent
They would say: “Can you sing any Dylan?”

Well, I struggled on, but the magic was gone
Leaving naught but a deep sense of failure,
So I thought I would go to where all failures go
And I boarded a ship to Australia.
When I landed in Sydney the sun it shone down
'Twas a view that was lovely and thrillin'
Till spotting my case, with a smile on his face
Customs said: “Can you sing any Dylan, mate?”

And ever since then, again and again,
They've asked me the same bloody question
And I usually reply with a glint in me eye
And a rather indecent suggestion .
But the last straw came one night at a local motel
When I had a young girl who was willin'
As she slipped off her dress, she said “I'll say yes
If only you’ll sing some Bob Dylan.”

But I tell you my friends, that was the end
Of all my traditional aspirations.
If being a folkie meant giving up nookie
There was one way to end my frustrations.
The next night I sang at my local folk club
Where the audience as usual was millin'
Till I took off my coat and I ruptured my throat
And I sang a song just like Bob Dylan.

Well the audience went wild, man, woman and child
And they clapped till their raw hands were bleeding
And said so to speak that my style was unique
And just what the folk scene was needing
So all you young folkies who play a guitar
If you want to achieve the top billin'
Just murder good prose and sing through your nose
And then you'll sound just like Bob Dylan.