"Oh, help me in my weakness"
I heard the drifter say
As they carried him from the courtroom
And were taking him away
ôMy trip hasn't been a pleasant one
And my time it isn't long
And I still do not know
What it was that I've done wrong"
Well, the judge, he cast his robe aside
A tear came to his eye
ôYou fail to understand," he said
ôWhy must you even try?"
Outside, the crowd was stirring
You could hear it from the door
Inside, the judge was stepping down
While the jury cried for more
ôOh, stop that cursed jury"
Cried the attendant and the nurse
ôThe trial was bad enough
But this is ten times worse"
Just then a bolt of lightning
Struck the courthouse out of shape
And while ev'rybody knelt to pray
The drifter did escape
Autor(es): Bob Dylan