Bob Dylan
American folk and rock singer-songwriter, born in Duluth, Minnesota.
Love is so simple, to quote a phrase; you've known it all the time, I'm learnin' it these days.
Leave your stepping stones behind, something calls for you.
Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you.
Your lover who just walked out the door, has taken all his blankets from your floor.
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.
My patron saint is a-fighting with a ghost. He's always off somewhere when I need him most.
May you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung. May your song always be sung, May you stay forever young.
Say for me that I'm all right though things get kind of slow
She might think that I've forgotten her don't tell her it isn't so.
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.
Gonna forget about myself for a while, gonna go out and see what others need.
You'll never know the hurt I suffer, nor the pain I rise above, and I'll never know the same about you...
With your sheets like metal and your belt like lace,
And your deck of cards missing the jack and the ace,
And your basement clothes and your hollow face,
Who among them can think he could outguess you?
Don't know how it all got started, I don't know what they do with their lives...
But if the arrow is straight, And the point is slick, It can pierce through dust no matter how thick.
The future to me is already a thing of the past.
Some one else is speaking with my mouth, but I'm listening only to my heart.
It’s not a character like in a book or a movie. He’s not a bus driver. He doesn’t drive a forklift. He’s not a serial killer. It’s me who’s singing that, plain and simple. We shouldn’t confuse singers and performers with actors. Actors will say, “My character this, and my character that.” Like beating a dead horse. Who cares about the character? Just get up and act. You don’t have to explain it to me.
We always did feel the same, we just saw it from a different point of view...
Somebody got lucky, but it was an accident.
You've been with the professors and they've all liked your looks. With great lawyers you've discussed lepers and crooks.
When you cease to exist, then who will you blame?