^^ Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan - Desolation Row

로만짜 2009. 12. 20. 02:00

 

       

       

      They're selling postcards of the hanging
      They're painting the passports brown
      The beauty parlor is 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 tight-rope 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 seems so easy
      "It takes one to know one," she smiles
      And puts her hands in her back pockets
      Bette 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 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 fortunetelling 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

      Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
      For her I feel so afraid
      On her twenty-second 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
      He looked so immaculately frightful
      As he bummed a cigarette
      Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
      And reciting the alphabet
      Now you would not think to look at him
      But he was famous long ago
      For playing the electric violin
      On Desolation Row

      Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
      Inside of a leather cup
      But all his sexless patients
      They're 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 penny whistles
      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
      A perfect image of a priest
      They're spoonfeeding Casanova
      To get him to feel more assured
      Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
      After poisoning him with words
      And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
      "Get Outa Here If You Don't Know
      Casanova is just being punished for going
      To Desolation Row"

      Now at midnight all the agents
      And the superhuman crew
      Come out and round up everyone
      That knows more than they do
      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
      And everybody's shouting
      "Which Side Are You on?"
      And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
      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 too much
      About Desolation Row

      Yes, I received your letter yesterday
      (About the time the door knob broke)
      When you asked 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 can't read too good
      Don't send me no more letters no
      Not unless you mail them
      From Desolation Row

       

      Highway 61 Revisited ('65)