*Silver angel
With the badge of the lonesome road written on your sleeve
I’d be grateful if this golden ring you would receive
Today on the countryside it was a hotter than a crotch
I stood alone upon the ridge and all I did was watch
Sweet Goddess
It must be time to carve another notch.
I’m crestfallen
The world of illusion is at my door
I ain’t a-haulin’ any of my lambs to the marketplace anymore
The prison walls are crumbling, there is no end in sight
I’ve gained some recognition but I lost my appetite
Sweet beauty
Meet me at the border late tonight.*
The lyric writing of “Hurricane” is mind-blowing; although the song can drag on upon listening, Dylan’s ability to tell that entire story with that level of artistry given the constraints of the melody is beyond comparison:
Meanwhile, far away in another part of town
Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivin’ around
Number one contender for the middleweight crown
Had no idea what kinda shit was about to go down
When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road
Just like the time before and the time before that
In Paterson that’s just the way things go
If you’re black you might as well not show up on the street
‘Less you want to draw the heat"
.
.
.
Four months later, the ghettos are in flame
Rubin’s in South America, fightin’ for his name
While Arthur Dexter Bradley’s still in the robbery game
And the cops are puttin’ the screws to him, lookin’ for somebody to blame
Remember that murder that happened in a bar
Remember you said you saw the getaway car
You think you’d like to play ball with the law
Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin’ that night
Don’t forget that you are white
Not for me, I find it incredibly gripping. Not clear on how much of it is Dylan and how much is Jacques Levy, though. Same with “Isis,” another big favorite of mine.
*While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society’s pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole that he’s in
But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone that lives in a vault
But it’s alright, Ma, if I can’t please him
.
.
While them that defend what they cannot see
With a killer’s pride, security
It blows the minds most bitterly
For them that think death’s honesty
Won’t fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes must get lonely*
The sun is beginnin’ to shine on me
But it’s not like the sun that used to be
The party’s over and there’s less and less to say
I got new eyes, everything looks far away
Well my heart’s in The Highlands at the break of day
Over the hills and far away
There’s a way to get there, and I’ll figure it out somehow
Well I’m already there in my mind and that’s good enough for now
And from “Changing of the Guards” on Street Legal:
Gentlemen, he said
I don’t need your organization, I’ve shined your shoes
I’ve moved your mountains and marked your cards
But Eden is burning, either getting ready for elimination
Or else your hearts must have the courage for the changing of the guards
And from “Where Are You Tonight” on the same album:
The truth was obscure, too profound and too pure, to live it you have to explode.
In that last hour of need, we entirely agreed, sacrifice was the code of the road.
I rapped upon a house with a U.S. flag upon display.
I said, “Could you help me out? I got some friends down the way.”
The man says, “Get out of here! I’ll tear you limb from limb!”
I said, “You know, they refused Jesus, too.” He said, “You’re not Him!”
One more. This got me coming and going. As a kid, then later as a parent and now once again as an old fart.
Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly aging
Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand
Cause the times they are a-changing
I got a cravin’ love for blazin’ speed
I got a hopped up Mustang Ford
Jump into the wagon, love
Throw your panties overboard
From Po’ Boy:
Time and love has branded me with its claws
Had to go to Florida, dodgin’ them Georgia laws
Po’ boy in the hotel called the Palace of Gloom
Called down to room service, said ‘send up a room’
and
Knockin’ on the door, I say ‘who is it, where you from?’
Man say ‘Freddie’, I say ‘Freddie who?’
He say ‘Freddie or not, here I come’
Po’ boy ‘neath the stars that shine
Washin’ them dishes, feedin’ them swine
See them big plantations burning
Hear the cracking of the whips
Smell that sweet magnolia blooming
(And) see the ghosts of slavery ships
I can hear them tribes a-moaning
(I can) hear the undertaker’s bell
(Yeah), nobody can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell
I just noticed that we haven’t had very much from his, well, protest days yet. So here’s a stanza I’ve always liked very much, just because I despise the target for his anger just as much as he did. The spite… It’s scathing, but appropriate:
Masters Of War:
And I hope that you die
And your death’ll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I’ll watch while you’re lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I’ll stand o’er your grave
’Til I’m sure that you’re dead
Sweet Melinda, the peasants call her the goddess of gloom
She speaks good English and she invites you up into her room
And you’re so kind and careful not to go to her too soon
And she takes your voice and leaves you howling at the moon
…
I started out on burgundy but soon hit the harder stuff
Everybody said they’d stand behind me when the game got rough
But the joke was on me, there was nobody even there to bluff
I’m going back to New York City, I do believe I’ve had enough.
Love his New York songs, 'specially “Hard Times in New York Town.” Favorite stanza:
*It’s a mighty long way from the Golden Gate
To Rockefeller Plaza and the Empire State.
Mister Empire sits up as high as a bird
And old Mister Rockefeller never says a word.
And it’s hard times in the city
Livin’ down in New York town.*
I can still hear the sounds of those Methodist bells
I’d taken the cure and had just gotten through
Staying up for days in the Chelsea Hotel
Writing “Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands” for you. Tangled Up in Blue:
She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
“I thought you’d never say hello” she said
“You look like the silent type”
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the fifteenth century
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burning coal
Pouring off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you
Tangled up in blue
*Well, John the Baptist after torturing a thief
Looks up at his hero the Commander-in-Chief
Saying, “Tell me great hero, but please make it brief
Is there a hole for me to get sick in?”
The Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly
Saying, “Death to all those who would whimper and cry”
And dropping a barbell he points to the sky
Saying, “The sun’s not yellow it’s chicken”*
**When I Paint My Masterpiece
**
*Oh, the streets of Rome are filled with rubble,
Ancient footprints are everywhere.
You can almost think that you’re seein’ double
On a cold, dark night on the Spanish Stairs.
Got to hurry on back to my hotel room,
Where I’ve got me a date with pretty little girl from Greece
She promised she’d be there with me
When I paint my masterpiece.
*
**If You See Her, Say Hello
I see a lot of people as I make the rounds
And I hear her name here and there as I go from town to town
And I’ve never gotten used to it, I’ve just learned to turn it off
Either I’m too sensitive or else I’m gettin’ soft.
Sundown, yellow moon, I replay the past
I know every scene by heart, they all went by so fast
If she’s passin’ back this way, I’m not that hard to find
Tell her she can look me up if she’s got the time*
Now the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside
He walks with a swagger and he says to the bride
“Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride
You will not die, it’s not poison”
I can’t recall a useful thing you ever did for me
'Cept pat me on the back one time when I was on my knees
We stared into each other’s eyes 'till one of us would break
No use to apologize, what difference would it make?
from Political World:
We live in a political world
Turning and trashing about
As soon as you’re awake
You’re trained to take
What looks like the easy way out
