Seventy six trombones stolen just today,
And a hundred and ten clarinets were robbed.
They were taken from the studio of the finest old conductor,
Some even deigned to call him God!

Seventy six trombones are now missing, son,
And a hundred and ten clarinets disappeared.
There were more than a thousand leads, and they all led nowhere,
This case baffled all detective minds!

There were coppers knocking loudly at the old man's house,
Clamoring, clamoring, nearly half a day.
The old fart finally came out to answer the door,
The officers all let him have his say.

"There are fifty mounted speakers at the house next door,
Thundering Bob Dylan louder than twelve bears!
Dissonance of every kind, he always sings off-key,
All night long it always hurts my ears!

"It had to stop, ao I broke in...
His studio... and I brought home....
Seventy six trombones just to drown him out,
And a hundred and ten clarinets to clear the air.
It sounds better than hearing Dylan squeal,
Now there is peace and quiet over here!"

"Seventy six trombones I will let you have,"
Said the conductor, "and you won't go to jail"
"When I was taken hostage by the Viet Cong
They tortured me with Dylan's constant wail."