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    You walk into the room
    With your pencil in your hand
    You see somebody naked
    And you say, "Who is that man?"
    You try so hard
    But you don't understand
    Just what you'll say
    When you get home

    Because something is happening here
    But you don't know what it is
    Do you, Mister Jones?

    You raise up your head
    And you ask, "Is this where it is?"
    And somebody points to you and says
    "It's his"
    And you say, "What's mine?"
    And somebody else says, "Where what is?"
    And you say, "Oh my God
    Am I here all alone?"

    Because something is happening here
    But you don't know what it is
    Do you, Mister Jones?

    You hand in your ticket
    And you go watch the geek
    Who immediately walks up to you
    When he hears you speak
    And says, "How does it feel
    To be such a freak?"
    And you say, "Impossible"
    As he hands you a bone

    Because something is happening here
    But you don't know what it is
    Do you, Mister Jones?

    You have many contacts
    Among the lumberjacks
    To get you facts
    When someone attacks your imagination
    But nobody has any respect
    Anyway they already expect you
    To just give a check
    To tax-deductible charity organizations

    You've been with the professors
    And they've all liked your looks
    With great lawyers you have
    Discussed lepers and crooks
    You've been through all of
    F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
    You're very well read
    It's well known

    Because something is happening here
    But you don't know what it is
    Do you, Mister Jones?

    Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
    And then he kneels
    He crosses himself
    And then he clicks his high heels
    And without further notice
    He asks you how it feels
    And he says, "Here is your throat back
    Thanks for the loan"

    Because something is happening here
    But you don't know what it is
    Do you, Mister Jones?

    Now you see this one-eyed midget
    Shouting the word "NOW"
    And you say, "For what reason?"
    And he says, "How?"
    And you say, "What does this mean?"
    And he screams back, "You're a cow
    Give me some milk
    Or else go home"

    Because something is happening here
    But you don't know what it is
    Do you, Mister Jones?

    Well, you walk into the room
    Like a camel and then you frown
    You put your eyes in your pocket
    And your nose on the ground
    There ought to be a law
    Against you comin' around
    You should be made
    To wear earphones

    Because something is happening here
    But you don't know what it is
    Do you, Mister Jones?

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    Todas as letras de Bob Dylan

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