It's Bob Dylan's turn to be 60. It was suggested that non-voters might outnumber winning voters for the first time since 1918

It ain't no use to scribble in your X, babe

It don't matter, anyhow

And there ain't no point in elect-oral sex, babe

If your silk purse comes from a sow

When the acting returning officer's sworn

And candidates speak the same old corn

You may rise at dusk as soon as dawn

Don't vote once, it's all right

I'm watching that long Election count, babe

What I buy, they don't sell

And Sod Off are two goodly words, pal

So I'll just add Go To Hell

I ain't claimin' that I lost my mind

I can hardly bother to be non-aligned

I feel just what you did, and that's resigned

So don't vote once, it's all right

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