I’m hittin’ the road in my Wayfarer Van…
Buskin’ the fields for all of my fans…
Looking for poets, hot springs, and ghosts…
Of writers and dreamers from coast to coast.

Yo, Bobby Z, i refried this song…
Rollin’ through your hometown, i didn’t stay long…
The Iron Range Country folks, give ’em a hand…
For raisin’ the bard we call Dylan.

Yo, Bobby Z, i want you to see…
The good things your life’s work has done for me…
I’m playin’ the chords, but i can’t do enough…
Your trickster enigma, nobody can touch.

Here’s to Robbie and Bruce and Steve and Ricky Lee…
All the 6-sting troubadours that followed your lead…
The songwriter’s era might be at an end…
But Simon Says can never be my friend.

This song is ending so i just wanna say…
You moved to electric back in the day…
And look at me now… i’m closing that loop…
From hard rock, to the hard luck roots.