<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7521829250735123406</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:00:12.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poking Fun at Dylan</title><subtitle type='html'>Songs that poke fun at Dylan's lyrics. All the spoofs that fit, we print.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pokingfunatdylan.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7521829250735123406/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pokingfunatdylan.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Phil Shapiro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16051999512417898279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.writersforliteracy.org/phil2005.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7521829250735123406.post-4065882640948660077</id><published>2009-04-06T14:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T15:53:16.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, You're Stepping on my Toe</title><content type='html'>Hey, Mr. Tambourine man, you're stepping on my toe,&lt;br /&gt;The pain it starts to grow.&lt;br /&gt;You're no longer gonna be my beau.&lt;br /&gt;Left me me blindly here to stand on one foot achingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, Mr. Tambourine man, you're stepping on my toe,&lt;br /&gt;In the jingle jangle morning I'll hit you over the head with a tambourine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7521829250735123406-4065882640948660077?l=pokingfunatdylan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7521829250735123406/posts/default/4065882640948660077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7521829250735123406/posts/default/4065882640948660077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pokingfunatdylan.blogspot.com/2009/04/hey-mr-tambourine-man-youre-stepping-on.html' title='Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, You&apos;re Stepping on my Toe'/><author><name>Phil Shapiro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16051999512417898279</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.writersforliteracy.org/phil2005.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
