Oh Bob Dylan, You Are Dead To Me...

How does it feel?
To catch the bouquet of broken faces
An attempt to appeal to the youth who already adored you
That beautiful key with the lonesome voice
But she won't open your door

How does it feel?
To alter the hem of your royal days
How it billowed out so gracefully
But you stomped it out
Then you 'saved yourself' with the bitter taste still in your mouth

Oh, you knew how it felt
'To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone...'

But botox don't make it any better
Just unravel this golden tapestry
That old familiar sweater
So the pop crowd will buy your cd's
And your Hip Hop goddess will love you

by Audrey Stephenson

Comments (1)

you know, i have seen dylan dozens of time, most not by choice as he toured with the dead for a few years and i ended up seeing dozens of shows, or course never to take anything away from him, but i saw him in the winter of 90 in new haven connecicut, he was so drunk, he played the same song three times, i only remember the smell of whiskey through his harmonica, the whole place stunk, like the burn inside the barrels to make bourbon,