@ALBUM: Misc songs that were transcribed The following is a list of 16 songs that i have been transcribing for some friends of mine and it occurred to me that rec.music.dylan might want to see the results. i begin by writing down each song as i remember it, then comparing the printout to the recorded version. what i dont know about is the copyright problem here. these songs are marked whenever i see them "not to be reprinted without permission" and it would seem that, given his initial horror (or Grossman's) upon the release of the Great White Wonder album, that we could be asking for flames of the non-net variety. LEGEND of what might follow: -B.Dylan = COPYRIGHT BY BOB DYLAN!!! circa.196n : 1963, Another Side Of BD 1964, Bringing It All Back Home 1965, Highway 61 Revisited and 1966, Blonde On Blonde believe it or not i was just about to get this first song for my friends when someone sent in Bruce Springsteen's cover version. Brucey left out 2 verses and cobbled many of the words, but i cant blame him - they dont exactly roll off the tongue. he sang what he did well. @SONG: Chimes of Freedom - Bob Dylan, circa.1963 [as taken off the record, Another Side Of Bob Dylan) Far between sundown's finish and midnight's broken toe We ducked inside the doorway as thunder went crashing As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the sounds Seeming to be the chimes of freedom flashing Flashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight; Flashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight. And for each and every underdog soldier in the night And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing Through the city's melted furnace unexpectedly we watched With faces hidden as the walls were tightening As the echo of the wedding bells before the blowing rain Dissolved into the bells of lightning Tolling for the rebel, tolling for the rake Tolling for the luckless, the abandoned and forsaked.llin Tolling for the outcasts burning constantly at stakes And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail The sky cracked its forms in naked wonder And the clinking of the churchbells blew far into the breeze Leaving only bells of lightning and its thunder Striking for the gentle, striking for the kind Striking for the guardians and protectors of the mind And the poet and the painter far behind his rightful time And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing In the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales For the disrobed faceless forms of no position Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts All down in taken-for-granted situations Tolling for the deaf and blind, tolling for the mute For the mistreated mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute For the misdemeanor of law, chained and cheated by pursuit And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing Even though a cloud's white curtain in a far off corner flared And the hypnotic, splattered mist was slowly lifting Electric light still struck like arrows fired but for the ones Condemned to drift or else be kept from drifting Tolling for the searching ones on this speechless, seeking trail For the lonesome hearted lovers with too personal a tale. And for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing Starry eyed and laughing as I recall when we were caught Trapped by no track of hours, for they hang suspended As we listened one last time, and we watched with one last look Spellbound and swallowed 'til the tolling ended Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed For the countless, confused, accused, misused strung out ones and worse... And for every hungup person in the whole wide universe And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing @SONG: bob dylan's 115th dream -b.dylan, circa.1964 i was riding on the Mayflower when i thought i spied some land i yelled down to Captain Arab, i'll have ya understand, who came running to the deck and said "Boys! Forget the whale - we're goin' over yonder. Cut the engines. Change the sails." "Haul on that bowline!" we sang that melody, like all tough sailors do when they're far away at sea. "I think i'll call it America." i said as we hit land. I took a deep breath. I fell down, i could not stand. Captain Arab he starting writing out some deeds and said "Lets build us a Fort and start buying the place with beads." Just then a cop come down the street crazy as a loon and throws us all in jail for carryin harpoons. Aw, me, i busted out - dont even ask me how, i went lookin for some help, i walked past a guernsey cow who directed me down to the bowery slums where people carried signs around sayin "BAN THE BUMS!". i jumped right in line, sayin "I hope that i'm not late" when i realized i hadnt eaten for five days straight. i went into a restaurant lookin for the cook - i told him i was the editor of a famous etiquette book. the waiter he was handsome and he wore a powder blue cape. i ordered up some suzette, i said "could you please make that crepe?" just then the whole kitchen exploded from boiling fat - food was flyin everywhere - i left without my hat. i didnt mean to be nosey so i went into a bank to try to get some bail for the boys back in the tank. they asked me for some collateral and i pulled down my pants. they threw me in the alley, when up comes this girl from france who invited me to her place. i went, but she had a friend who knocked me out an' robbed my boots an' was i on the street again. i went up to a big house with a U.S. flag upon display. i said "can you please help me out, i got some friends down the way". The man said "Get out of here or i'll tear you limb from limb." i said "you know, they refused Jesus, too." He said "Your not him. Get out of here before i break your bones. i'm not your pop." I decided to have him arrested and went looking for a cop. i ran back outside and got into a cab i ran out the other door - this english man said "Fab!" as he saw me leap a hotdog stand and a chariot that stood parked across from a build advertising brotherhood. I ran right through the door like a hobo sailor does, but it was just a funeral parlor and the man asked me who i was i repeated that all my friends were in jail, with a sigh. he gave me his card and said "call me if they die." i shook his hand and said goodbye and went back out on the street, when a bowling ball came down the road and knocked me off my feet. A pay phone was ringin - and it just about blew my mind - when i picked it up an' said "hello", this foot came through the line! well about this time i was fed up at trying to make a stab at gettin any help for my friends and Captain Arab. i needed a coin to flip, like eather heads or tails, would let me know if i should go back to ship or back to jail. so i hocked my sailor's suit an' i got a coin to flip. It came up tails, it rhymed with sails, so i made it back to the ship. Well I got back and took the parking ticket off the mast. i was ripping it to shreds when this Coast Guard boat went past. They asked me my name and i said "Captain Kidd". They believed me but they wanted to know exactly what i did. I said "for the pope of Eyruke i was employed" they let me go right away, they were very paranoid. Well the last i heard of Arab he was stuck on the side of a whale that was married to the deputy sheriff of the jail, but the funniest thing was - as i was leavin' the bay - i saw three ships sailing and they were all headed my way. So i asked the Captain what his name was an' how come he didnt drive a truck?? He said his name was Columbus an' i just said "Good Luck..." @SONG: tambourine man - b.dylan, circa.1964 hey mister tambourine man, play a song for me i'm not sleepy and there is no place i'm going to hey mister tambourine man, play a song for me in the jingle jangle morning i'll come followin you though i know that evening's empire has returned into sand vanished from my hand left me blindly here to stand but still not sleepin my weariness amazes me - i'm branded on my feet i have no one to meet and my ancient empty street's too dead for dreamin hey mister tambourine man, play a song for me i'm not sleepy and there is no place i'm going to hey mister tambourine man, play a song for me in the jingle jangle morning i'll come followin you take me on a trip upon your magic swirling ship my senses have been stripped my hands cant feel to grip my toes to numb to step wait only for my bootheels to be wanderin i'm ready to go anywhere, i'm ready for to fade into my own parade cast your dancing spell my way i promise to go under it hey mister tambourine man, play a song for me i'm not sleepy and there is no place i'm going to hey mister tambourine man, play a song for me in the jingle jangle morning i'll come followin you though you might hear laughing, spinning, swinging madly across the sun its not aimed at anyone its just escaping on the run and, but for the sky, there are no fences facin and if you hear vague traces of skipping reels of rhyme to your tambourine in time its just a ragged clown behind i wouldnt pay it any mind its just a shadow your seeing that he's chasing hey mister tambourine man, play a song for me i'm not sleepy and there is no place i'm going to hey mister tambourine man, play a song for me in the jingle jangle morning i'll come followin you then take me dissappearing through the smoke rings of my mind down the foggy ruins of time far past the frozen leaves the haunted frightened trees out to the windy beach far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free silhouetted by the sea circled by the circus sands with all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves let me forget about today until tomorrow hey mister tambourine man, play a song for me i'm not sleepy and there is no place i'm going to hey mister tambourine man, play a song for me in the jingle jangle morning i'll come followin you @SONG: The Gates Of Eden B.Dylan circa.1964 Of war and peace the truth just twists, its curfew gull it glides Upon 4-legged forest clouds the cowboy angel rides With his candle lit into the sun, though its glow is waxed in black All except when 'neath the trees of Eden The lampost stands with folded arms, its iron claws attached To curbs 'neath holes where babies wail though it shadows metal badge All in all can only fall with a crashing but meaningless blow No sound ever comes from the gates of Eden This savage soldier sticks his head in sand and then complains Unto the shoeless hunter who's gone deaf but still remains Upon the beach where hounddogs bay at ships with tattooed sails Heading for the gates of Eden With a time-rusted compass blade, Aladdin and his Lamp Sits with utopian hermit monks, side-saddle on the Golden Calf And on their promises of paradise you will not hear a laugh All except inside the gates of Eden Relationships of ownership they whisper in the wings To those condemned to act accordingly and wait for succeeding kings And I try to harmonize with songs the lonesome sparrow sings There are no kings inside the gates of Eden The motorcycle black madonna two-wheeled gypsy queen And her silver studded phantom cause the grey-flanneled dwarf to scream As he weeps, two wicked birds of prey who pick up on his breadcrumbs sins And there are no sins inside the gates of Eden The kingdoms of experience in the precious winds they rot While paupers change possessions - each one wishing for what the other has got And the princess and the prince discuss what's real and what is not It doesnt matter inside the gates of Eden The foreign sun it squints upon a bed that is never mine As friends and other strangers from their fates try to resign Leaving men wholly totally free to do anything they wish to do but die And there are no trials inside the gates of Eden At dawn my lover comes to me and tells me of her dreams With no attempts to shovel the glimpse into the ditch of what each one means At times I think there are no words but these to tell what's true And there are no truths outside the gates of Eden @SONG: Its Alright Ma, I'm Only Bleedin' - B. Dylan, circa.1964 Darkness at the break of noon shadows even the silver spoon The hand made blade, the child's balloon eclipses both the sun and moon To understand you know too soon there is no sense in trying Pointed threats they bluff with scorn, suicide remarks are torn From the fool's gold mouthpiece, the hollow horn Plays wasted words, proves to warn That he not busy being born is busy dying Temptation's page flies out the door, you follow, find yourself at war Watch waterfalls of pity roar, you feel to moan but unlike before You discover that you' just be one more person crying So don't fear if you hear a foreign sound to your ear It's alright ma, I'm only sighing As some warn victory, some downfall, private reasons great or small Can be seen in the eyes of those that call To make all that should be killed to crawl While others say don't hate nothing at all except hatred Disillusioned words like bullets bark as human gods aim for their mark Make everything from toy guns that spark To flesh coloured Christs that glow in the dark It's easy to see without looking too far that not much is really sacred While preachers preach of evil fates teachers teach that knowledge waits Can lead to hundred dollar plates, goodness hides behind its gates But even the president of the United States Sometimes must have to stand naked And though the rules of the road have been lodged It's only people's games that you've got to dodge And it's alright ma, I can make it Advertising signs that con you into thinking you're the one That can do what's never been done, that can win what's never been won Meantime life outside goes on all around you You lose yourself, you reappear you suddenly find you've got nothing to fear Alone you stand with nobody near when a trembling distant voice unclear Startles your sleeping ears to hear That somebody thinks they really found you A question in your nerves is lit yet you know there is no answer fit To satisfy, ensure you not to quit To keep it in your mind and not forget That it is not he or she or them or it that you belong to Although the masters make the rules for the wise men and the fools I've got nothing, ma, to live up to For them that must obey authority that they do not respect in any degree Who despise their jobs, their destinies Speak jealously of them that are free Cultivate their flowers to be nothing more than something they invest in While some unprinciples baptize too strict party platform ties Social clubs in drag disguise, outsiders they can freely criticize Tell nothing except who to idolize and say 'God bless him' 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 Old lady judges watch people in pairs, limited in sex they dare To push fake morals, insultant stares While money doesn't talk, it swears Obscenity, who really cares, propaganda all is phony While them that defend what they cannot see With a killer's pride, security It blows the mind most bitterly for them that think death's honesty Won't fall upon them naturally life sometimes must get lonely My eyes collide head on with stuffed graveyards, false goals, I scuff At pettiness which plays so rough, walk upside down inside handcuffs Kick my legs to crash it off, say OK I've had enough What else can you show me And if my thought dreams could be seen They'd probably put my head in a guillotine But it's alright ma, it's life and life only @SONG: its all over now, baby blue -b.dylan, circa.1964 you must leave now - take what you need, you think will last but whatever you wish to keep - you'd better grab it fast yonder stands you orphan with his gun crying like a fire in the sun lookout, the saints are coming through and its all over now, baby blue the highway is for gamblers, better use your sense take what you have gathered from coincidence the empty-handed painter from your streets is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets the sky, too, is folding under you and its all over now, baby blue all your seasick sailors - they're all rowing home all your reindeer armies, they're all going home your lover, who just stepped out the door, has taken all his blankets from the floor the carpet, too, is moving under you and its all over now, baby blue leave your stepping stones behind, there's something that calls for you forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you the vagabond who's rapping at your door is standing in the clothes that you once wore strike another match, go start anew and its all over now, baby blue <<>> @SONG: tombstone blues - b.dylan, circa.1965 the sweet pretty things are in bed now of course the city fathers they are trying to endorse a reincarnation of paul revere's horse for the town has no need to be nervous the ghost of belle star she hands down her wits to jezebel the nun - she violently knits a bald wig for jack the ripper who sits at the head of the chamber of commerce mama's in the factory, she aint got no shoes daddy's in the alley, he's lookin for food i'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues the hysterical bride in the penny arcade screaming, she moans "i've just been made" and calls out for the doctor who pulls down the shade and says "my advice is to not let the boys in" 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!" mama's in the factory, she aint got no shoes daddy's in the alley, he's lookin for food i'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues well john the baptist, after torturing a thief, looks up 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!" mama's in the factory, she aint got no shoes daddy's in the alley, he's lookin for food i'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues the king of the philistines, his soldiers to save, puts jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves puts the peid pipers in prison and fattens the slaves and sends them out to the jungle gypsy davey with a blowtorch he burns out their camps with his faithful slave pedro behind him he tramps with a fantastic collection of stamps to win friends and influence his uncle mama's in the factory, she aint got no shoes daddy's in the alley, he's lookin for food i'm in trouble with the tombstone blues the geometry of innocent flesh on the bone causes galileo's math book to get thrown at delilah who's sitting worthlessly alone but the tears on her cheeks are from laughter i wish i could gave brother bill his great thrill i would set him in chains at the top of the hill then send out for some pillars and cecil b. demille he could die happily ever after mama's in the factory, she aint got no shoes daddy's in the alley, he's lookin for food i'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues well ma rainey and beethoven once unwrapped a bedroll tuba players now rehearse around the flagpole and the national bank at a profit sells roadmaps to the soul to the old folks home at the college i wish i could write you a melody so plain that could hold you, dear lady, from going insane that could ease you and cool you and cease the pain of your useless and pointless knowledge mama's in the factory, she aint got no shoes daddy's in the alley, he's lookin for food i'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues ...all right!... @SONG: ballad of a thin man b.dylan, circa.1965 you walk into the romm with your pencil in your hand you see somebody naked and you say "who is that man?" you try so hard but you just dont understand just what you will say when you get home because something is happening here and you dont know what it is, do you, mister jones you raise up your head and you ask "is this where it is?" and somebody points to you and says "its his" and you say "whats mine?" and somebody else says "where WHAT is" and you say "oh my god - am i here all alone?" but something is happening here and you dont know what it is, do you, mister jones you hand in you ticket and you go watch the geek who immediately walks up to you when he hears you speak saying "how does it feel to be such a freak" and you say "impossible" as he hands you a bone and something is happening here but you dont know what it is, do you, mister jones you have many contacts among the lumberjacks to get you facts when someone attacks your imagination but nobady has any respect, anyway they already expect you to all give a check to tax-deductable charity organizations aw...you've been with the professors, they've liked your looks with great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks you've read all of F. scott fitzgerald's books you're very well read, its well known but something is happening here and you dont know what it is, do you, mister jones well, the swordswallower comes up to you and then he kneels he crosses himself and he clicks his high heels and without further notice he asks you how it feels and he says "here is your throat back, thanks for the loan" and you know something is happening but you dont know what it is, do you, mister jones now you see this one-eyed midget saying the word "now" and you say "for what reason?" and he says "how?" and you say "what does this mean?" and he screams back "you're a cow! give me some milk - or else go home!" and you KNOW somethings happening here but you dont know what it is, do you, mister jones well, you walk into the room like a camel and then you frown you put your eyes in your pocket and your nose on the ground there oughtta be a law against you coming around you should be made to wear earphones cause something is happening here and you dont know what it is, do you, mister jones ............... ...ohhhhhhh.... .... @SONG: just like tom thumb's blues - b.dylan, circa.1965 when you're lost in the rain in Juarez when its easter time, too and your gravity fails and negativity dont pull you through dont put on any airs when you're down on Rue Morgue avenue they got some hungry women there and they'll really make a mess out of you if you see saint annie, please tell her thanks alot i cannot move and my fingers - they are all in a knot i dont have the strength to get up and take another shot and my best friend, my doctor, wont even say was it is that i've got sweet melinda, the peasants call her the goddess of Gloom she speaks good english and she invites up into her room and you so kind and careful not to go to her too soon and she take your voice and leaves you howling at the moon up on housing project hill its either fortune or fame you must pick one or the other although neither of them ought to be what they claim and if you're lookin to get silly, you better go back to from where you came because the cops dont need you and, man, they expect the same now all the authorities they just stand around and boast how they blackmailed the sergeant-at-arms into leaving his post and picking up angel, who just arrived here from the coast, who looked so fine at first, but left looking just like a ghost i started out on burgandy 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 @SONG: Desolation Row b.dylan circa.1965 they're selling postcards of the hanging they're painting the passports brown the beauty parlor's filled with sailors the circus is in town here comes the blind commissioner they've got him in a trance one hand is tied to the tightrope walker the other is in his pants and the riot squad they're restless they need somewhere to go as lady and i look out tonight from desolation row cinderella she seemed so easy "it takes one to know one" she smiles and put her hands in her back pocket betty davis style and in comes Romeo he's moaning "you belong to me - i believe" and someone says "you're in the wrong place, my friend, you'd better leave" and the only sound that's left after the ambulances go is cinderella sweeping up on desolation row now the moon is almost hidden the stars are beginning to hide the fortune-telling lady has even taken all her things inside all except for cain and abel and the hunchback of notre dame everybody is making love or else expecting rain and the good samaritan - he's dressing he's getting ready for the show he's going to the carnival tonight on desolation row Ophelia - she's 'neath the window for her i feel so afraid on her 22nd birthday she already is an Old Maid to her death is quite romantic - she wears an iron vest - her profession's her religion, her sin is her lifelessness and though her eyes are fixed upon Noah's great rainbow she spends her time peeking into desolation row einstein, disguised as robin hood, with his memories in a trunk passed this way an hour ago with his friend, a jealous monk now he looked so emmaculately frightful as he bummed a cigarette and he went off sniffing drainpipes and reciting the alphabet you would not think to look at him, but he was famous long ago for playing the electric violin on desolation row doctor filth - he keeps his world inside of a leather cup but all his sexless patients they are trying to BLOW it up now his nurse - some local loser - she's in charge of the cyanide hole and she also keeps the cards that read have mercy on his soul they all play on the pennywhistle you can hear them blow - if you lean your head out far enough from desolation row across the street they've nailed the curtains they're getting ready for the feast the phantom of the opera, in a perfect image of a priest, they are spoonfeeding casanova to get him to feel more assured then they'll kill him with selfconfidence after poisoning him with words and the phantom shouting't two skinny girls - "get outta here if you dont know - casanova's just being punished for going to desolation row" at midnight all the agents and the superhuman crew come out and round up everyone that knows more than they do and then they bring them to the factory where the heart-attack machine is strapped across their shoulders and then the kerosene is brought down from the castles by insurance men who go check to see that nobody is escaping to desolation row praise be to nero's neptune the titanic sails at dawn everyone is shouting "Which side are you on!" and ezra pound and t.s.elliot fighting in the captain's tower while calypso singers laugh at them and fishermen hold flowers between the windows of the sea where lovely mermaids flow and nobody has to think to much about desolation row -----powerful harmonica interlude------------------ yes, i received your letter yesterday about the time the doorknob broke - when you asked me how i was doing - was that some kind of jOke all these people that you mention - yes, i know them, they're quite lame, i had to rearrange their faces and give them all another name right now i cant read to good dont send me no more letters - No! not unless you mail them from desolation row --------powerful harmica ending--------------- @SONG: positively 4th street -b.dylan, circa.1965 you've gotta lotta nerve to say you are my friend when i was down you just stood there grinnin' you've gotta lotta nerve to say you have a helping hand to lend you just want to be on the side that's winnin' you see me on the street, you always act surprised ya say "how are you?", "good luck", but ya dont mean it when you know as well as me you'd rather see me paralized why dont you just come out once and scream it i know the reason you talked behind my back i used to be among the crowd you're in with but do you take me for such a fool, to think i'd make contact with the one who tries to hide what he dont know to begin with? you say i've let you down - ya know its not like that if you're so hurt, why then doncha show it? you say you've lost your faith, but thats not where its at ya have no faith to lose - an' ya know it no, i doe not feel that good when i see the heartbreaks you embrace if i was a master thief perhaps i'd rob them and tho i know you're dissatisfied with your position and your place dont you understand, its not my problem? i wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes and just for that one moment i could be you yes, i wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes you'd know what a drag it is to see you @SONG: visions of johanna b.dylan, circa.1966 aint it just like the night to play tricks when you"re tryin ta be so quiet we're all set here stranded - tho' we're all doin our best to deny it. and louise holds her hands full of rain, tempting you to defy it. lights flicker from the opposite loft in this room the heatpipes just cough the country music station plays soft but there's nothing, really nothing, to turn off just louise and her lover so entwined and these visions of johanna that conquer my mind.... in the empty lot where the ladies play blindman's bluff with the keychain and the all-night girls, they whisper escapades out on the D-train you can hear the nightwatchman click his flashlight, ask himself if its him or them that's insane and louise - she's alright, she's just near she's delicate and seems like veneer but she just makes it all so concise and so clear that johanna's not here the ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face where these visions of johanna have now taken my place now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously he brags of his misery - he likes to live dangerously and when bringing her name up, he speaks of a farewell kiss to me he sure gotta lot of gall to be so useless and all muttering small talk at the wall while i'm in the hall oh, how can i explain, its so hard to get on and these visions of johanna have kept me up past the dawn inside the museums infinity goes up on trial voices echo "this is what salvation must be like after a little while" but mona lisa musta had the highway blues you can tell by way she smiles see the primitive wallflower freeze when the jelly-faced women all sneeze hear the one with the mustache say "jeez, i cant find my knees" oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule but these visions of johanna, they make it all seem so cruel the peddler now speaks to the countess who is pretending to care for him saying "name me someone who's not a parasite, and i'll go out and say a prayer for him" but like louise always says "you cant look at much? can you, man" as she, herself, prepares for him and madonna, she still hasnt showed we see this empty cage now corrode where the cape of the stage once it flowed. the fiddler he now steps to the road he writes "everything's been returned that was old" on the back of the fish truck that loads while my conscience explodes the harmonicas play the skeleton keys in the rain and these visions of johanna are now all that remain @SONG: stuck inside of mobile with the (memphis blue again) - b.dylan,circa.1966 aw - the ragman draw circles up and the down the block i'd ask him what the matter was, but i know that he dont talk and the ladies treat me kindly and they furnish me with tape but deep inside my heart i know i cant escape oh, mama - can this really be the end to be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again well, shakespeare, he's in the alley with his pointed shoes and his bells speaking to some french girl who says she knows me well and i would send a message to find out if she's talked but the postoffice has been stolen and the mailbox is locked oh, mama - can this really be the end to be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again mona tried to tell me, she said to stay away from the train line she said that all the railroad men just drink up your blood like wine and i said "oh, i didnt know that" - but then again there's only one i've met and he just smoked my eyelids and punched my cigarette oh, mama - can this really be the end to be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again grampa died last week and now he's buried in the rocks but everybody still talks about how badly they were shocked but me - i expected it to happen, i knew he'd lost control when i sp- he built a fire on main street and shot it full of holes oh, mama - can this really be the end to be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again now the senator he came down here showing everyone his gun handing out free tickets to the wedding of his son and me, i nearly got busted and wouldnt it be my luck to get caught without a ticket and be discovered beneath a truck oh, mama - can this really be the end to be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again now the tea creature looked so baffled when i asked him why he dressed with 20 pounds of headlines stapled to his chest but he cursed me when i proved to him, and i whispered and said "not even you can hide you see you're just like me - i hope your satisfied" oh, mama - can this really be the end to be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again now the rainman gave me two cures and he said "jump right in" the one was texas medicine, the other was just railroad gin and like a fool i mixed them and it strangled up my mind and now people just get uglier and i have no sense of time oh, mama - can this really be the end to be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again now when ruthy says come see her in a honkytonk lagoon where i can watch her waltz for free 'neath the panamanian moon and i say "aw, come on now - you know, you know about my debutante" and she says "your debutante just knows what you need but i know what you want" oh, mama - can this really be the end to be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again now the bricks lay on grand street where the neon madmen climb they all fall there so perfectly, it all seemed so well timed and here i sit so patiently, waiting to find out what price you have to pay to get out of going through all these things twice oh, mama - is this really the end to be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again @SONG: leopardskin pillbox hat - b.dylan, circa.1966 well i see you got your brand new leopardskin pillbox hat yes, i see you got your brand new leopardskin pillbox hat you must tell me, honey, what your head feels under something like that - under your brand new leopardskin pillbox hat well you look so pretty in it, honey, can i jump on it sometime? yes - i just want to see if its really the expensive kind you know it balances on your head just like a mattress balances on a bottle of wine - your brand new leopardskin pillbox hat well if you want to the sunrise, honey, i know where we'll go out and see it sometime, we'll both just sit there and stare me with my belt wrapped around my head and you just sitting there in your brand new leopardskin pillbox hat i asked the doctor if i could see you - "its bad for your health" he said yes, i disobeyed his orders, i came to see you but i found him there instead you know, i dont mind him cheatin on me, but i sure wish he'd take that off his head - your brand new leopardskin pillbox hat well, i see you got a new boyfriend. no, i've never seen him before yes, i saw you making love with him - you forgot to close the garage door you might think he loves you for your money but i know what he really loves you for its your brand new leopardskin pillbox hat @SONG: absolutely sweet marie -b.dylan, circa.1966 well your railroad gate, you know i just cant jump it sometimes it gets so hard to see i just sitting here, beating on my trumpet with all these promises you left for me but where you are tonight, sweet marie? well i waited for you when i was a half-sick yes, i waited for you when you hated me well i wai-aited for you inside of the frozen traffic you, when you knew i had some toher place to be now where are you tonight, sweet marie? well anybody can be just like me, obviously but then not again not too many can be like you, fortunately well six white horses, that you did promise were finally delivered down to the penitentary but to live outside the law you must be honest i know you always say that you'll agree alright, so where are you tonight, sweet marie? well i dont know how it happened, but the river boat captain, he knows my fate but everybody else, even including yourself, they're just gonna have to wait well, i got the fever down in my pockets the persian drunkard, he follows me yes i can take him to your house, but i cant unlock it you see you forgot to leave me with the key aww - where are you tonight, sweet marie? i been in jail when all the mail showed the man cant give his address out to bad company and now i stand here looking at your yellowed railroad in the ruins of your balcony wondering where you are tonight, sweet marie? @SONG: 4th time around b.dylan, circa.1966 when she said dont waste your words, they're just lies i cried she was deaf as she worked on my face until breaking my eyes and said "what else ya got left" it was then that i got up to leave but she said "dont forget, everybody must give something back, something they get" i stood there and hummed i tapped on her drum and i asked her "how come?" and she buttoned her boot and straightened her suit and she said "dont get cute" so i forced my hands in my pockets and felt with my thumbs and gallantly handed her my very last piece of gum she threw me outside i stood in the dirt where everyone waLked and, after finding out i forgot my shirt, i went back and knolked i waited in the hallway, she went to get it and i tried to make sense out of that picture of you in your wheelchair that leaned up against her jamaican rum and when she did come i asked her for some she said "no, dear" i said "your words arent clear - you better spit out your gum" she screamed and her face got so red then she fell on the floor and i covered her up and then thought i'll go look through her drawer and when i was through i filled up my shoe and brought it to you and you, you took me in, you loved me then, you, you never wasted time and i, i never took much i never asked for your crutch now dont ask for mine ----------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------------- thats all for now, folks mac the finger (finally back from highway 61) p.s. - respond in rec.music.dylan if you feel you have to