Nettie Moore

She says, "Look out daddy, don't want you to tear your pants.

You can get wrecked in this dance."

They say whiskey will kill ya, but I don't think it will

I'm riding with you to the top of the hill

Oh, I miss you Nettie Moore

And my happiness is o'er

Winter's gone, the river's on the rise

I loved you then and ever shall

But there's no one here that's left to tell

The world has gone black before my eyes

© Bob Dylan, 2006