Hell hath no fury like Dylan scorned.

I woke up on the roadside, daydreamin’ ’bout the way things sometimes are

Visions of your chestnut mare shoot through my head and are makin’ me see stars.

You hurt the ones that I love best and cover up the truth with lies.

One day you’ll be in the ditch, flies buzzin’ around your eyes,

Blood on your saddle.

Idiot wind, blowing through the flowers on your tomb,

Blowing through the curtains in your room.

Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth,

You’re an idiot, babe.

It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe.

(link)