Early Roman Kings

Written by Bob Dylan
Released on Tempest (2012)
Tabbed by Eyolf Østrem

The Muddy Waters riff that runs through the whole song, starts just before the chord change indicated below. It is hinted at in the very beginning of the song, in this form:

   .       :     .     .  
---------|----------------
---------|----------------
---5---4-|----------------
---5---4-|----------------
---------|----------------
---------|-3--------------
        

It's not really a guitar song at all, but these are the notes anyway, to be played as written here or some other place on the neck::

             G                         C
     .       :     .     .     .       :     .     .     
-----------|-------------------1---0-|-------------------
-----1---0-|-----------------1-------|-1-----------------
---0-------|-0-----------------------|-------------------
-----------|-------------------------|-------------------
-----------|-------------------------|-------------------
-----------|-------------------------|-------------------
             [in top hats and tails]
        
G         
 All the early Roman kings in their shark-skin suits,

Bow-ties and buttons, high-top boots,

Driving the spikes in, blazing the rails,

Nailed in their coffins in top-hats and tails.
C
 Fly away little bird, fly away, flap your wings
G
 Fly by night like the early Roman kings.
        
All the early Roman kings in the early, early morn,
Comin' down the mountain, distributing the corn,
Speedin' through the forest, racing down the track,
You try to get away, they drag you back.
Tomorrow is Friday, we'll see what it brings.
Everybody's talking about the early Roman kings.
        
They're peddlers and they're meddlers, they buy and they sell.
They destroyed your city, they'll destroy you as well.
They're leacherous and treacherous, hell-bent for leather.
Each of them bigger than all men put together.
Sluggers and muggers wearing fancy gold rings.
All the women going crazy for the early Roman kings.
        
I can dress up your wounds with a blood-clotted rag.
I ain't afraid to make love to a bitch or a hag.
If you see me coming, and you're standing there,
Wave your handkerchief in the air!
I ain't dead yet, my bell still rings.
I keep my fingers crossed like the early Roman kings.
        
I can strip you of life, strip you of breath,
Ship you down to the house of death.
One day you will ask for me.
There'll be no one else that you'll want to see.
Bring down my fiddle, tune up my strings:
I'm gonna break it wide open like the early Roman kings.
        
I was up on Black mountain the day Detroit fell.
They killed them all off, and they sent them to hell.
Ding-dong daddy, you're coming up short.
Gonna put you on trial in a Sicilian court.
I've had my fun, I've had my flings.
Gonna shake them all down like the early Roman kings.