![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKxsJ_XnJRzk1_PEdHzzOJiet5dmGVDqGHDxqni9gd0gIMLsMaVMm1McCkzaJ7iFNL7yvBRCSyhv_EwT46NNCSXHgUs2FT4oOMajRY1Lreu-jcXJVex88boABrFefl1uFo9bYL6QXq5Nyp/s400/theweight.jpg)
I pulled into Nazareth, was feelin' about half past dead;
I just need some place where I can lay my head.
"Hey, mister, can you tell me where a man might find a bed?"
He just grinned and shook my hand, and "No!", was all he said.
(lyrics from "The Weight," by Robbie Robertson, aka J.R. Robertson, 1968)
(chalk pastel drawing from 1982, "Self-Portrait of an Old Friend as a Young Man," by Old Girl Of The North Country)
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