Early one morning the sun was shining, I was a-laying in bed,
Wondering if she'd changed at all, if her hair was still red.
Her folks, they said that their lives together sure was gonna be rough,
They never did like mama's homemade dress, papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.
And he was standing on the side of the road, rain falling on his shoes,
Heading out for the old East Coast, radio blasting the news straight on through,
Tangled up in blue.
She was married when they first met to a man four times her age,
He left her penniless in a state of regret – it was time to bust outta the cage.
And they drove that car as far as they could, abandoned it out west,
Splitting up on a dark, sad night, both agreeing that it was best.
She turned around to look at him as he was a-walking away,
Saying, "I wish I could tell you all the things that I never learned how to say."
He said, "That's alright, babe, I love you too,
But we were tangled up in blue."
He had a steady job and a pretty face and everything seemed to fit.
One day he could just feel the waste, he put it all down and split
And he drifted down to New Orleans where they treated him like a boy,
He nearly went mad in Baton Rouge, he nearly drowned in Delacroix.
And all the while he was alone, the past was close behind,
He had a-one too many lovers and none of 'em were too refined – all except for you,
But you were tangled up in blue.
She was working in the blinding light and I stopped in for a drink,
I just kept looking at her face so white, I didn't know what to think.

I said, "Nothing, baby, and that's for sure." She leaned down into my face,
I could feel the heat and the pulse of her as she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,
Tangled up in blue.
I lived with them on Montague Street in a basement down the stairs,
There was snow all winter and no heat, revolution was in the air,
Till one day all of his slaves ran free, something inside of him died.
The only thing I could do was be me and get on that train and ride.

So now I'm going on back again, maybe tomorrow or maybe next year,
I gotta find someone among the women and men whose destiny is unclear.
Some're masters of illusion, some're ministers of the trade,
All under strong delusion, all of their beds're unmade.
Me, I'm still heading towards the sun, trying to stay outta the joint,
We always did love the very same one, we just saw her from a different point of view,
Tangled up in blue.