Help me in my weakness
I heard the drifter say
As they carried him from the courtroom
And were taking him away
My trip hasn't been a pleasant one
And my time isn't long
And I still do not know
What it was that I've done wrong
Well the Judge he cast his robe aside
A tear came to his eye
You fail to understand he said
Why must you even try
Outside the crowd was stirring
You could hear it from the door
Inside the judge was stepping down
While the jury cried for more
Oh stop that cursed jury
Cried the attendant and the nurse
The trial was bad enough
But this is ten times worse
Just then a bolt of lightning
Struck the courthouse out of shape
And while everybody knelt to pray
The drifter did escape
Dylan...
Once upon a time you dressed so fine
You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?
People'd call, say, "Beware doll, you're bound to fall"
You thought they were all kiddin' you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin' out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't seem so proud
About having to be scrounging for your next meal.
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
You've gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street
And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it
You said you'd never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And ask him do you want to make a deal?
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns
When they all come down and did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain't no good
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain't it hard when you discover that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything he could steal.
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people
They're drinkin', thinkin' that they got it made
Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things
But you'd better lift your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse
When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?
In your teardrops, i can see my own reflection,
It was on the norhtern border of Texas wher i crossed the line.
I don't want to be a fool starving for affection
I don't want to drown in someone else's wine.
For all eternity I think I will remember
That icy wind that's blowing in your eye.
You will seek me and you'll find me
In the wasteland of your mind
When the night comes falling from the sky.
Who actually wrote BLOWIN' IN THE WIND? Here is an article that had me going.
http://www.snopes.com/music/songs/blowin.htm
john brown carries the day these times, god help him
John Brown went off to war to fight on a foreign shore.
His mama sure was proud of him!
He stood straight and tall in his uniform and all.
His mama's face broke out all in a grin.
Oh son, you look so fine, I'm glad you're a son of mine,
You make me proud to know you hold a gun.
Do what the captain says, lots of medals you will get,
And we'll put them on the wall when you come home.
As that old train pulled out, John's ma began to shout,
Tellin' ev'ryone in the neighborhood:
That's my son that's about to go, he's a soldier now, you know.
She made well sure her neighbors understood.
She got a letter once in a while and her face broke into a smile
As she showed them to the people from next door.
And she bragged about her son with his uniform and gun,
And these things you called a good old-fashioned war.
Oh! Good old-fashioned war!
Then the letters ceased to come, for a long time they did not come.
They ceased to come for about ten months or more.
Then a letter finally came saying, Go down and meet the train.
Your son's a-coming home from the war.
She smiled and went right down, she looked everywhere around
But she could not see her soldier son in sight.
But as all the people passed, she saw her son at last,
When she did she could hardly believe her eyes.
Oh his face was all shot up and his hand was all blown off
And he wore a metal brace around his waist.
He whispered kind of slow, in a voice she did not know,
While she couldn't even recognize his face!
Oh! Lord! Not even recognize his face.
Oh tell me, my darling son, pray tell me what they done.
How is it you come to be this way?
He tried his best to talk but his mouth could hardly move
And the mother had to turn her face away.
Don't you remember, Ma, when I went off to war
You thought it was the best thing I could do?
I was on the battleground, you were home . . . acting proud.
You wasn't there standing in my shoes.
Oh, and I thought when I was there, God, what am I doing here?
I'm a-tryin' to kill somebody or die tryin'.
But the thing that scared me most was when my enemy came close
And I saw that his face looked just like mine.
Oh! Lord! Just like mine!
And I couldn't help but think, through the thunder rolling and stink,
That I was just a puppet in a play.
And through the roar and smoke, this string is finally broke,
And a cannon ball blew my eyes away.
As he turned away to walk, his Ma was still in shock
At seein' the metal brace that helped him stand.
But as he turned to go, he called his mother close
And he dropped his medals down into her hand.
Oh yeah, kuvasz. That one hits the target dead on.
mr zimmerman's best version is on his "unplugged' album. i cried like baby the first time i ever heard it. all i could think of was when i was 15 and was a pall bearer carrying my uncle who was killed in viet nam.
GOD DAMN WAR AND ALL WHO WISH FOR IT.
There are no good wars. Each one merely sets up the next war. I echo your sentiments.
I was going to post either Restless Farewell, It's All Over Now Baby Blue or Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands, three of my Dylan favorites as performed by Joan Baez, and then I read the earlier threads. To quote you, Edgar: "Speaking of hitting the target", I'll never forget the first time I heard Masters of War in 1963. My mother had recorded it for me to hear (on a tinny sounding tape recorder from the radio) when I came home from work. That was the day I became a Bob Dylan fan. His lyrics said it all.
For years I have ended every session of listening to recorded music with Masters of War. It says what I feel about war and those who willingly serve the war ethic.
I usually include LICENSE TO KILL.
Billy they don't like you to be so free.
90 miles an hour down a dead end street
now your daning child with his chinese suit
he spoke to me, i took his flute
no, i wasn't very cute to him
was I?
but i did it, though, because he lied
because he took you for a ride
and because time was on his side
and i because i -------
He sits in your room
His tomb
With a fist full of tacks
Preoccupied with his vengeance
Cursing the dead that cannot set him back
You know that he has no intentions
Of looking your way
Unless it's to say
That he needs you to test his inventions
Hey, crawl out your window ...
He looks so truthful Is this how he feels
Trying to peel the moon and expose it
While his genocide friends and fools rearrange
Their religion of little tin women
He just needs you to talk
Or hand him his chalk
Or pick it up after he throws it
He looks so truthful while your face is so changed
Are you frightened of the box you keep him in
he look so truthful, is this how he feels
trying to peel the moon and expose it
With his businesslike anger and his bloodhounds that kneel
if he needs a third eye he just grows it
he just needs you to talk or to hand him his chalk
or pick it up after he throws it
can you please crawl out your window
use your arms and legs it won't ruin you
how can you say he will haunt you?
you can go back to him anytime you want to.
Oh yeah. I got confused. And I even keep this one posted on another forum.
When Positively 4th Street was the new single I bought a copy that had mistakenly pressed Crawl instead. It was backed by the same band that appears on Highway 61 Revisited. It's the only issue of this version I have ever found.
They stone you when you're trying to be so good
They stone you just like they said they would
They stone you when you're trying to go home
They stone you when you're left all alone
But I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned
