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

ADDITIONAL VERSES

You made me eat a ton of dust (garbage -  
dustbin a bin that holds rubbish until it is
collected [syn: ashcan,  trash can, garbage 
can, wastebin, ashbin, trash barrel, trash bin])
You're potentially dangerous, and not worthy of 
trust (in Idiot Wind “I been doubled crossed 
now for the very last time and now I am finally free”)
Someday baby, you ain't gonna worry poor me any more


Little by little, bit by bit
Every day I'm becoming more of a hypocrite 
(he is going to become violent even though 
he espouses non-violence in songs like Masters of War)
Someday baby, you ain't gonna worry poor me any more

When I heard you was cold, I bought you a coat and hat
I think you must have forgotten about that
Someday baby, you ain't gonna worry poor me any more

Gonna blow out your mind, and make you pure 
(basically gonna blow your fool head off, 
“Right on target so direct”)
I've taken about as much of this as I can endure
Someday baby, you ain't gonna worry poor me any more

You put me down shits creek
That's all right, to you I turn the other cheek
Someday baby, you ain't gonna worry poor me any more

You say you need me, how would I know?
You say you love me, but it can't be so
Someday baby, you ain't gonna worry 
poor me any more