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Happy 65th Birthday, Bob Dylan

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Zomby Woof Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed May-24-06 08:15 PM
Original message
Happy 65th Birthday, Bob Dylan
May you stay forever young...



And now for one of my favorite songs, "Blind Willie McTell":

Seen the arrow on the doorpost
Saying, "This land is condemned
All the way from New Orleans
To Jerusalem."
I traveled through East Texas
Where many martyrs fell
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

Well, I heard the hoot owl singing
As they were taking down the tents
The stars above the barren trees
Were his only audience
Them charcoal gypsy maidens
Can strut their feathers well
But nobody can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

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

There's a woman by the river
With some fine young handsome man
He's dressed up like a squire
Bootlegged whiskey in his hand
There's a chain gang on the highway
I can hear them rebels yell
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

Well, God is in heaven
And we all want what's his
But power and greed and corruptible seed
Seem to be all that there is
I'm gazing out the window
Of the St. James Hotel
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell


Copyright 1983 Special Rider Music
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nutsnberries Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed May-24-06 09:56 PM
Response to Original message
1. You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go (happy birthday, bob!)
I've seen love go by my door
It's never been this close before
Never been so easy or so slow.
Been shooting in the dark too long
When somethin's not right it's wrong
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.

Dragon clouds so high above
I've only known careless love,
It's always hit me from below.
This time around it's more correct
Right on target, so direct,
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.

Purple clover, Queen Anne lace,
Crimson hair across your face,
You could make me cry if you don't know.
Can't remember what I was thinkin' of
You might be spoilin' me too much, love,
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.

Flowers on the hillside, bloomin' crazy,
Crickets talkin' back and forth in rhyme,
Blue river runnin' slow and lazy,
I could stay with you forever
And never realize the time.

Situations have ended sad,
Relationships have all been bad.
Mine've been like Verlaine's and Rimbaud.
But there's no way I can compare
All those scenes to this affair,
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.

Yer gonna make me wonder what I'm doin',
Stayin' far behind without you.
Yer gonna make me wonder what I'm sayin',
Yer gonna make me give myself a good talkin' to.

I'll look for you in old Honolulu,
San Francisco, Ashtabula,
Yer gonna have to leave me now, I know.
But I'll see you in the sky above,
In the tall grass, in the ones I love,
Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.


:)

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greendog Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed May-24-06 10:13 PM
Response to Original message
2. An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing (Happy Birthday, Bob)
Far between sundown's finish an' midnight's broken toll
We ducked inside the doorway, thunder 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
An' for each an' ev'ry underdog soldier in the night
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

In the city's melted furnace, unexpectedly we watched
With faces hidden while the walls were tightening
As the echo of the wedding bells before the blowin' rain
Dissolved into the bells of the lightning
Tolling for the rebel, tolling for the rake
Tolling for the luckless, the abandoned an' forsaked
Tolling for the outcast, burnin' constantly at stake
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail
The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder
That the clinging of the church bells 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
An' the unpawned painter behind beyond his rightful time
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Through 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 an' blind, tolling for the mute
Tolling for the mistreated, mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute
For the misdemeanor outlaw, chased an' cheated by pursuit
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Even though a cloud's white curtain in a far-off corner flashed
An' 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 their speechless, seeking trail
For the lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale
An' for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Starry-eyed an' laughing as I recall when we were caught
Trapped by no track of hours for they hanged suspended
As we listened one last time an' we watched with one last look
Spellbound an' swallowed 'til the tolling ended
Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an' worse
An' for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.


Copyright 1964; renewed 1992 Special Rider Music

Columbia Records
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NoPasaran Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed May-24-06 10:21 PM
Response to Original message
3. You've got a lot of nerve
You got a lotta nerve
To say you are my friend
When I was down
You just stood there grinning

You got a lotta nerve
To say you got a helping hand to lend
You just want to be on
The side that's winning

You say I let you down
You know it's not like that
If you're so hurt
Why then don't you show it

You say you lost your faith
But that's not where it's at
You had no faith to lose
And you know it

I know the reason
That you talk behind my back
I used to be among the crowd
You're in with

Do you take me for such a fool
To think I'd make contact
With the one who tries to hide
What he don't know to begin with

You see me on the street
You always act surprised
You say, "How are you?" "Good luck"
But you don't mean it

When you know as well as me
You'd rather see me paralyzed
Why don't you just come out once
And scream it

No, I do not feel that good
When I see the heartbreaks you embrace
If I was a master thief
Perhaps I'd rob them

And now I know you're dissatisfied
With your position and your place
Don't you understand
It's 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

Copyright 1965; renewed 1993 Special Rider Music

Happy Birthday, Bob!
:toast:
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nutsnberries Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed May-24-06 10:22 PM
Response to Original message
4. Ring Them Bells
Edited on Wed May-24-06 10:23 PM by cosmicbandita
Ring them bells, ye heathen
From the city that dreams,
Ring them bells from the sanctuaries
Cross the valleys and streams,
For they're deep and they're wide
And the world's on its side
And time is running backwards
And so is the bride.

Ring them bells St. Peter
Where the four winds blow,
Ring them bells with an iron hand
So the people will know.
Oh it's rush hour now
On the wheel and the plow
And the sun is going down
Upon the sacred cow.

Ring them bells Sweet Martha,
For the poor man's son,
Ring them bells so the world will know
That God is one.
Oh the shepherd is asleep
Where the willows weep
And the mountains are filled
With lost sheep.

Ring them bells for the blind and the deaf,
Ring them bells for all of us who are left,
Ring them bells for the chosen few
Who will judge the many when the game is through.
Ring them bells, for the time that flies,
For the child that cries
When innocence dies.

Ring them bells St. Catherine
From the top of the room,
Ring them from the fortress
For the lilies that bloom.
Oh the lines are long
And the fighting is strong
And they're breaking down the distance
Between right and wrong.

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In_The_Wind Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed May-24-06 10:22 PM
Response to Original message
5. All I Really Want To Do (Happy Birthday ~ Bob Dylan!)
I ain't lookin' to compete with you,
Beat or cheat or mistreat you,
Simplify you, classify you,
Deny, defy or crucify you.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

No, and I ain't lookin' to fight with you,
Frighten you or uptighten you,
Drag you down or drain you down,
Chain you down or bring you down.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

I ain't lookin' to block you up
Shock or knock or lock you up,
Analyze you, categorize you,
Finalize you or advertise you.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

I don't want to straight-face you,
Race or chase you, track or trace you,
Or disgrace you or displace you,
Or define you or confine you.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

I don't want to meet your kin,
Make you spin or do you in,
Or select you or dissect you,
Or inspect you or reject you.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

I don't want to fake you out,
Take or shake or forsake you out,
I ain't lookin' for you to feel like me,
See like me or be like me.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you.
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REDKING Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed May-24-06 10:24 PM
Response to Original message
6. Fuck him..he sold out...
:evilfrown:
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retrospective66 Donating Member (168 posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed May-24-06 10:37 PM
Response to Reply #6
7. Thank You ZoombyWolf
For bringing this to our attention. I didn't know it was his BD. Well I did, but just wasn't paying attention. We are so fortunate to have had an artist such as him in our lifetime. And I thank you for recognizing him.
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Zomby Woof Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed May-24-06 10:49 PM
Response to Reply #7
8. You're welcome
And welcome to DU. :toast:
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retrospective66 Donating Member (168 posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed May-24-06 11:48 PM
Response to Reply #8
9. Thanks
I've been reading DU for some time now and you're one of my favorite posters. You've got great taste in music and you always seem to be level and "cool"

So THANK YOU for leting me join you!

:toast:
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dolo amber Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Wed May-24-06 11:50 PM
Response to Original message
10. Not only is he unattractive and irrelevant, he's old
Edited on Wed May-24-06 11:51 PM by dolo amber
:rofl:
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RandomKoolzip Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu May-25-06 12:06 AM
Response to Reply #10
12. Techno is VERY relevant, however.
Edited on Thu May-25-06 12:09 AM by RandomKoolzip
How the hell is Old Navy supposed to sell tankinis without it?!
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RandomKoolzip Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Thu May-25-06 12:00 AM
Response to Original message
11. Happy B-day, Bob. My fave Dylan song (right now) is:
Edited on Thu May-25-06 12:01 AM by RandomKoolzip
"The Groom's Still Waiting At The Altar." On the page, these words don't have the same power as hearing them ripped out by Bob in some of the angriest singing he's ever done. Also, the copyrighted words )printed here) don't match exactly with the version that was included on the re-release of "Shot of Love."

(Michael Gray's Song and Dance Man III has a wonderful exploration of this song; it's a 800-page book, heavy with footnotes, but a real gas to read. Thanks to Gray, I went and re-discovered this song, and it's been on my iPod constantly since then....)

Praying in the ghetto with my face in the cement,
Heard the last moan of a boxer, seen the massacre of the innocent
Felt around for the light switch, felt around for her face
Been treated like a farm animal on a wild goose chase

East of the Jordan, hard as the Rock of Gibraltar,
I see the burning of the page,
Curtain risin' on a new age,
See the groom still waitin' at the altar.

Try to be pure at heart, they arrest you for robbery,
Mistake your shyness for aloofness, your silence for snobbery,

Got the message this morning, the one that was sent to me
About the madness of becomin' what one was never meant to be.

West of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,
I see the burning of the stage,
Curtain risin' on a new age,
See the groom still waitin' at the altar.

Don't know what I can say about Claudette that wouldn't come back to haunt me,
Finally had to give her up 'bout the time she began to want me.
But I know God has mercy on them who are slandered and humiliated.
I'd a-done anything for that woman if she didn't make me feel so obligated.

West of the Jordan, west of the Rock of Gibraltar,
I see the burning of the cage,
Curtain risin' on a new stage,
See the groom still waitin' at the altar.

Put your hand on my head, baby, do I have a temperature?
I see people who are supposed to know better standin' around like furniture.
There's a wall between you and what you want and you got to leap it,
Tonight you got the power to take it, tomorrow you won't have the power to keep it.

West of the Jordan, east of the Rock of Gibraltar,
I see the burning of the stage,
Curtain risin' on a new age,
See the groom still waitin' at the altar.

Cities on fire, phones out of order,
They're killing nuns and soldiers, there's fighting on the border.
What can I say about Claudette?
Ain't seen her since January,
She could be respectably married or running a whorehouse in Buenos Aires.
(The way Bob packs these syllables in is astonishing, and the number one rebuke to those who say he can't sing; anyone else trying to grasp Dylan's intuitive rhythmic phrasing, exhibited grandly in this song) without his innate musicality would sound like a fool...)


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