Drinking With Bob Dylan
there should be more to write then just simply goodnight-
and where are the stars, no word from the moon; where is your heart?
time is a duplicate lover and the wind is always vanishing,
like a forgotten lover always promising to come back one day.
and here, from where I sit, I can see the world,
and the world is nodding its head,
waving goodbye from the last train out of this nowhere town tonight.
I have to get out of here, have to get out of this state of mind-
who ever traveled to hell and traveled back again
to tell their sons and daughters
not to make the same mistakes I’ve made.
all the vagabonds, musicians and poets,
tattooed themselves to the fiery ruins of shooting stars,
and where to go would get me the hell out of hell?
I’ll end up in China baby, on the other side of the world
when I finish digging baby,
this grave straight through the backyard of your heart.
I keep wishing the phone would ring, some long lost lover
with a voice like rain, just calling to say,
I still haven’t changed my mind about us baby,
but have a good night anyway.