You may have heard of the time — some thought it a crime — Dylan ditched folk and decided to go n get electric. The vagabond is a drifter, wandering as he may. And wander I do, and wonder I may. I plugged in the amp, for it was now my time to start. The vagabond goes electric, absconds when it gets too hectic, currents through the floor, southpaw drop your jaw. Genetically disposed, that’s for sure. Father’s son though no more. I’ll show you the lights while I slip out the back door.

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