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Ciao a te e benvenuto nel forum della Associazione Culturale ZONACUSTICA. L'obiettivo di questo posto è dare spazio a chi ha voglia e bisogno di disquisire riguardo alla MUSICA ACUSTICA, con particolare attenzione per la musica di chitarra.
Messaggi : 591 Data d'iscrizione : 14.11.10 Età : 62 Località : Vicenza
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Dom Giu 05, 2011 7:11 am
5 Giugno:
Joey
Born in Red Hook, Brooklyn, in the year of who knows when Opened up his eyes to the tune of an accordion Always on the outside of whatever side there was When they asked him why it had to be that way, “Well,” he answered, “just because”
Larry was the oldest, Joey was next to last They called Joe “Crazy,” the baby they called “Kid Blast” Some say they lived off gambling and runnin’ numbers too It always seemed they got caught between the mob and the men in blue
Joey, Joey King of the streets, child of clay Joey, Joey What made them want to come and blow you away?
There was talk they killed their rivals, but the truth was far from that No one ever knew for sure where they were really at When they tried to strangle Larry, Joey almost hit the roof He went out that night to seek revenge, thinkin’ he was bulletproof
The war broke out at the break of dawn, it emptied out the streets Joey and his brothers suffered terrible defeats Till they ventured out behind the lines and took five prisoners They stashed them away in a basement, called them amateurs
The hostages were tremblin’ when they heard a man exclaim “Let’s blow this place to kingdom come, let Con Edison take the blame” But Joey stepped up, he raised his hand, said, “We’re not those kind of men It’s peace and quiet that we need to go back to work again”
Joey, Joey King of the streets, child of clay Joey, Joey What made them want to come and blow you away?
The police department hounded him, they called him Mr. Smith They got him on conspiracy, they were never sure who with “What time is it?” said the judge to Joey when they met “Five to ten,” said Joey. The judge says, “That’s exactly what you get”
He did ten years in Attica, reading Nietzsche and Wilhelm Reich They threw him in the hole one time for tryin’ to stop a strike His closest friends were black men ’cause they seemed to understand What it’s like to be in society with a shackle on your hand
When they let him out in ’71 he’d lost a little weight But he dressed like Jimmy Cagney and I swear he did look great He tried to find the way back into the life he left behind To the boss he said, “I have returned and now I want what’s mine”
Joey, Joey King of the streets, child of clay Joey, Joey Why did they have to come and blow you away?
It was true that in his later years he would not carry a gun “I’m around too many children,” he’d say, “they should never know of one” Yet he walked right into the clubhouse of his lifelong deadly foe Emptied out the register, said, “Tell ’em it was Crazy Joe”
One day they blew him down in a clam bar in New York He could see it comin’ through the door as he lifted up his fork He pushed the table over to protect his family Then he staggered out into the streets of Little Italy
Joey, Joey King of the streets, child of clay Joey, Joey What made them want to come and blow you away?
Sister Jacqueline and Carmela and mother Mary all did weep I heard his best friend Frankie say, “He ain’t dead, he’s just asleep” Then I saw the old man’s limousine head back towards the grave I guess he had to say one last goodbye to the son that he could not save
The sun turned cold over President Street and the town of Brooklyn mourned They said a mass in the old church near the house where he was born And someday if God’s in heaven overlookin’ His preserve I know the men that shot him down will get what they deserve
Joey, Joey King of the streets, child of clay Joey, Joey What made them want to come and blow you away?
perrycoloso
Messaggi : 1376 Data d'iscrizione : 02.04.10 Età : 40 Località : rimini
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Mer Giu 08, 2011 7:10 pm
io la amo...inutile....
compresa nel prezzo
Sandro
Messaggi : 591 Data d'iscrizione : 14.11.10 Età : 62 Località : Vicenza
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Mer Giu 08, 2011 8:38 pm
Ospite Ospite
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Mer Giu 08, 2011 9:37 pm
perrycoloso ha scritto:
6 giugno, direi ....
Sandro
Messaggi : 591 Data d'iscrizione : 14.11.10 Età : 62 Località : Vicenza
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Mer Giu 08, 2011 9:47 pm
Dario57 ha scritto:
perrycoloso ha scritto:
6 giugno, direi ....
Eh si, siamo un po' indietro...
perrycoloso
Messaggi : 1376 Data d'iscrizione : 02.04.10 Età : 40 Località : rimini
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Mer Giu 08, 2011 9:47 pm
Dario57 ha scritto:
perrycoloso ha scritto:
6 giugno, direi ....
anche tutto l'anno direi...
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Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Mer Giu 08, 2011 9:57 pm
Ospite Ospite
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Mer Giu 08, 2011 10:01 pm
Oh, sister, when I come to lie in your arms You should not treat me like a stranger Our Father would not like the way that you act And you must realize the danger
Oh, sister, am I not a brother to you And one deserving of affection? And is our purpose not the same on this earth To love and follow His direction?
We grew up together From the cradle to the grave We died and were reborn And then mysteriously saved
Oh, sister, when I come to knock on your door Don’t turn away, you’ll create sorrow Time is an ocean but it ends at the shore You may not see me tomorrow
Ospite Ospite
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Mer Giu 08, 2011 10:08 pm
7 giugno
Lay Lady Lay
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed Whatever colors you have in your mind I’ll show them to you and you’ll see them shine
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile Until the break of day, let me see you make him smile His clothes are dirty but his hands are clean And you’re the best thing that he’s ever seen
Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile Why wait any longer for the world to begin You can have your cake and eat it too Why wait any longer for the one you love When he’s standing in front of you
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead I long to see you in the morning light I long to reach for you in the night Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead
Ospite Ospite
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Mer Giu 08, 2011 10:14 pm
8 giugno
Talkin' John Birch Paranoid Blues
Well, I was feelin’ sad and feelin’ blue I didn’t know what in the world I wus gonna do Them Communists they wus comin’ around They wus in the air They wus on the ground They wouldn’t gimme no peace . . .
So I run down most hurriedly And joined up with the John Birch Society I got me a secret membership card And started off a-walkin’ down the road Yee-hoo, I’m a real John Bircher now! Look out you Commies!
Now we all agree with Hitler’s views Although he killed six million Jews It don’t matter too much that he was a Fascist At least you can’t say he was a Communist! That’s to say like if you got a cold you take a shot of malaria
Well, I wus lookin’ everywhere for them gol-darned Reds I got up in the mornin’ ’n’ looked under my bed Looked in the sink, behind the door Looked in the glove compartment of my car Couldn’t find ’em . . .
I wus lookin’ high an’ low for them Reds everywhere I wus lookin’ in the sink an’ underneath the chair I looked way up my chimney hole I even looked deep down inside my toilet bowl They got away . . .
Well, I wus sittin’ home alone an’ started to sweat Figured they wus in my T.V. set Peeked behind the picture frame Got a shock from my feet, hittin’ right up in the brain Them Reds caused it! I know they did . . . them hard-core ones
Well, I quit my job so I could work all alone Then I changed my name to Sherlock Holmes Followed some clues from my detective bag And discovered they wus red stripes on the American flag! That ol’ Betsy Ross . . .
Well, I investigated all the books in the library Ninety percent of ’em gotta be thrown away I investigated all the people that I knowed Ninety-eight percent of them gotta go The other two percent are fellow Birchers . . . just like me
Now Eisenhower, he’s a Russian spy Lincoln, Roosevelt and that Jefferson guy To my knowledge there’s just one man That’s really a true American: George Lincoln Rockwell I know for a fact he hates Commies cus he picketed the movie Exodus
Well, I fin’ly started thinkin’ straight When I run outa things to investigate Couldn’t imagine doin’ anything else So now I’m sittin’ home investigatin’ myself! Hope I don’t find out nothing . . . hmm, great God!
Oh, I’m sailin’ away my own true love I’m sailin’ away in the morning Is there something I can send you from across the sea From the place that I’ll be landing?
No, there’s nothin’ you can send me, my own true love There’s nothin’ I wish to be ownin’ Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled From across that lonesome ocean
Oh, but I just thought you might want something fine Made of silver or of golden Either from the mountains of Madrid Or from the coast of Barcelona
Oh, but if I had the stars from the darkest night And the diamonds from the deepest ocean I’d forsake them all for your sweet kiss For that’s all I’m wishin’ to be ownin’
That I might be gone a long time And it’s only that I’m askin’ Is there something I can send you to remember me by To make your time more easy passin’
Oh, how can, how can you ask me again It only brings me sorrow The same thing I want from you today I would want again tomorrow
I got a letter on a lonesome day It was from her ship a-sailin’ Saying I don’t know when I’ll be comin’ back again It depends on how I’m a-feelin’
Well, if you, my love, must think that-a-way I’m sure your mind is roamin’ I’m sure your heart is not with me But with the country to where you’re goin’
So take heed, take heed of the western wind Take heed of the stormy weather And yes, there’s something you can send back to me Spanish boots of Spanish leather
perrycoloso
Messaggi : 1376 Data d'iscrizione : 02.04.10 Età : 40 Località : rimini
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Ven Giu 10, 2011 11:55 am
bellissima....comunque son giunto alla conclusione dopo mesi di prove che dylan da cantare sia durissimo....
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Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Sab Giu 11, 2011 10:27 am
perrycoloso ha scritto:
bellissima....comunque son giunto alla conclusione dopo mesi di prove che dylan da cantare sia durissimo....
Vero, sopratutto alcune canzoni, solo chi non sa cantare crede che Dylan non sappia cantare ....
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Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Sab Giu 11, 2011 10:30 am
10 giugno
Quinn the Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn)
Ev’rybody’s building the big ships and the boats Some are building monuments Others, jotting down notes Ev’rybody’s in despair Ev’ry girl and boy But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here Ev’rybody’s gonna jump for joy Come all without, come all within You’ll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn
I like to do just like the rest, I like my sugar sweet But guarding fumes and making haste It ain’t my cup of meat Ev’rybody’s ’neath the trees Feeding pigeons on a limb But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here All the pigeons gonna run to him Come all without, come all within You’ll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn
A cat’s meow and a cow’s moo, I can recite ’em all Just tell me where it hurts yuh, honey And I’ll tell you who to call Nobody can get no sleep There’s someone on ev’ryone’s toes But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here Ev’rybody’s gonna wanna doze Come all without, come all within You’ll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn
perrycoloso
Messaggi : 1376 Data d'iscrizione : 02.04.10 Età : 40 Località : rimini
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Sab Giu 11, 2011 11:35 am
Dario57 ha scritto:
perrycoloso ha scritto:
bellissima....comunque son giunto alla conclusione dopo mesi di prove che dylan da cantare sia durissimo....
Vero, sopratutto alcune canzoni, solo chi non sa cantare crede che Dylan non sappia cantare ....
in realtà io ho adottato il metodo "non pensiamo a cosa fa bob" e faccio un po' come mi pare altrimenti...
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Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Sab Giu 11, 2011 3:47 pm
perrycoloso ha scritto:
Dario57 ha scritto:
perrycoloso ha scritto:
bellissima....comunque son giunto alla conclusione dopo mesi di prove che dylan da cantare sia durissimo....
Vero, sopratutto alcune canzoni, solo chi non sa cantare crede che Dylan non sappia cantare ....
in realtà io ho adottato il metodo "non pensiamo a cosa fa bob" e faccio un po' come mi pare altrimenti...
Si, si, d'accordo, un po`assurdo imitare il suo stile. Quello che volevo dire e`che il fraseggio che usa spesso non e`per niente semplice.
perrycoloso
Messaggi : 1376 Data d'iscrizione : 02.04.10 Età : 40 Località : rimini
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Sab Giu 11, 2011 4:18 pm
Dario57 ha scritto:
, un po`assurdo imitare il suo stile. Quello che volevo dire e`che il fraseggio che usa spesso non e`per niente semplice.
affatto! anzi sale scende come gli pare, a volte ha degli acuti che sembrano stonati in realtà... in crhonicles vol1(come se mai ce ne sarà un vol2)descrive la fase in cui ha imparato questa tecnica..interessante
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Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Sab Giu 11, 2011 5:35 pm
Non stiamo dicendo la stessa cosa ? .....
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Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Sab Giu 11, 2011 5:48 pm
11 giugno
Blowin' in the wind
Mettiamo anche Peter, Paul & Mary che His Bobness non dura a lungo su YT ....
How many roads must a man walk down Before you call him a man? Yes, ’n’ how many seas must a white dove sail Before she sleeps in the sand? Yes, ’n’ how many times must the cannonballs fly Before they’re forever banned? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind The answer is blowin’ in the wind
How many years can a mountain exist Before it’s washed to the sea? Yes, ’n’ how many years can some people exist Before they’re allowed to be free? Yes, ’n’ how many times can a man turn his head Pretending he just doesn’t see? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind The answer is blowin’ in the wind
How many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky? Yes, ’n’ how many ears must one man have Before he can hear people cry? Yes, ’n’ how many deaths will it take till he knows That too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind The answer is blowin’ in the wind
perrycoloso
Messaggi : 1376 Data d'iscrizione : 02.04.10 Età : 40 Località : rimini
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Sab Giu 11, 2011 6:36 pm
Dario57 ha scritto:
Non stiamo dicendo la stessa cosa ? .....
sisi siamo d'accordo! era un ribadire il concetto...su dylan dario siamo sempre d'accordo!
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Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Sab Giu 11, 2011 7:11 pm
perrycoloso ha scritto:
Dario57 ha scritto:
Non stiamo dicendo la stessa cosa ? .....
sisi siamo d'accordo! era un ribadire il concetto...su dylan dario siamo sempre d'accordo!
Ospite Ospite
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Dom Giu 12, 2011 12:15 am
12 giugno ....
Obviously Five Believers
Early in the mornin’ Early in the mornin’ I’m callin’ you to I’m callin’ you to Please come home Yes, I guess I could make it without you If I just didn’t feel so all alone
Don’t let me down Don’t let me down I won’t let you down I won’t let you down No I won’t You know I can if you can, honey But, honey, please don’t
I got my black dog barkin’ Black dog barkin’ Yes it is now Yes it is now Outside my yard Yes, I could tell you what he means If I just didn’t have to try so hard
Your mama’s workin’ Your mama’s moanin’ She’s cryin’ you know She’s tryin’ you know You better go now Well, I’d tell you what she wants But I just don’t know how
Fifteen jugglers Fifteen jugglers Five believers Five believers All dressed like men Tell yo’ mama not to worry because They’re just my friends
Early in the mornin’ Early in the mornin’ I’m callin’ you to I’m callin’ you to Please come home Yes, I could make it without you If I just did not feel so all alone
Saro`in viaggio qualche giorno .... mi porto un po`avanti con il lavoro .... lol .....
13 giugno
Cold Irons Bound
I’m beginning to hear voices and there’s no one around Well, I’m all used up and the fields have turned brown I went to church on Sunday and she passed by My love for her is taking such a long time to die
I’m waist deep, waist deep in the mist It’s almost like, almost like I don’t exist I’m twenty miles out of town in cold irons bound
The walls of pride are high and wide Can’t see over to the other side It’s such a sad thing to see beauty decay It’s sadder still to feel your heart torn away
One look at you and I’m out of control Like the universe has swallowed me whole I’m twenty miles out of town in cold irons bound
There’s too many people, too many to recall I thought some of ’m were friends of mine, I was wrong about ’m all Well, the road is rocky and the hillside’s mud Up over my head nothing but clouds of blood
I found my world, found my world in you But your love just hasn’t proved true I’m twenty miles out of town in cold irons bound Twenty miles out of town in cold irons bound
Oh, the winds in Chicago have torn me to shreds Reality has always had too many heads Some things last longer than you think they will There are some kind of things you can never kill
It’s you and you only I been thinking about But you can’t see in and it’s hard lookin’ out I’m twenty miles out of town in cold irons bound
Well the fat’s in the fire and the water’s in the tank The whiskey’s in the jar and the money’s in the bank I tried to love and protect you because I cared I’m gonna remember forever the joy that we shared
Looking at you and I’m on my bended knee You have no idea what you do to me I’m twenty miles out of town in cold irons bound Twenty miles out of town in cold irons bound
14 giugno
Spanish harlem Incident
Gypsy gal, the hands of Harlem Cannot hold you to its heat Your temperature’s too hot for taming Your flaming feet burn up the street I am homeless, come and take me Into reach of your rattling drums Let me know, babe, about my fortune Down along my restless palms
Gypsy gal, you got me swallowed I have fallen far beneath Your pearly eyes, so fast an’ slashing An’ your flashing diamond teeth The night is pitch black, come an’ make my Pale face fit into place, ah, please! Let me know, babe, I’m nearly drowning If it’s you my lifelines trace
I been wond’rin’ all about me Ever since I seen you there On the cliffs of your wildcat charms I’m riding I know I’m ’round you but I don’t know where You have slayed me, you have made me I got to laugh halfways off my heels I got to know, babe, will you surround me? So I can tell if I’m really real
15 giugno
Rainy day women #12 & 35
Well, they’ll stone ya when you’re trying to be so good They’ll stone ya just a-like they said they would They’ll stone ya when you’re tryin’ to go home Then they’ll stone ya when you’re there all alone But I would not feel so all alone Everybody must get stoned
Well, they’ll stone ya when you’re walkin’ ’long the street They’ll stone ya when you’re tryin’ to keep your seat They’ll stone ya when you’re walkin’ on the floor They’ll stone ya when you’re walkin’ to the door But I would not feel so all alone Everybody must get stoned
They’ll stone ya when you’re at the breakfast table They’ll stone ya when you are young and able They’ll stone ya when you’re tryin’ to make a buck They’ll stone ya and then they’ll say, “good luck” Tell ya what, I would not feel so all alone Everybody must get stoned
Well, they’ll stone you and say that it’s the end Then they’ll stone you and then they’ll come back again They’ll stone you when you’re riding in your car They’ll stone you when you’re playing your guitar Yes, but I would not feel so all alone Everybody must get stoned
Well, they’ll stone you when you walk all alone They’ll stone you when you are walking home They’ll stone you and then say you are brave They’ll stone you when you are set down in your grave But I would not feel so all alone Everybody must get stoned
16 giugno
To Ramona
Ramona, come closer Shut softly your watery eyes The pangs of your sadness Will pass as your senses will rise The flowers of the city Though breathlike, get deathlike at times And there's no use in tryin' To deal with the dyin' Though I cannot explain that in lines.
Your cracked country lips I still wish to kiss As to be by the strength of your skin Your magnetic movements Still capture the minutes I'm in But it grieves my heart, love To see you tryin' to be a part of A world that just don't exist It's all just a dream, babe A vacuum, a scheme, babe That sucks you into feelin' like this.
I can see that your head Has been twisted and fed With worthless foam from the mouth I can tell you are torn Between stayin' and returnin' Back to the South You've been fooled into thinking That the finishin' end is at hand Yet there's no one to beat you No one to defeat you 'Cept the thoughts of yourself feeling bad
I've heard you say many times That you're better 'n no one And no one is better 'n you If you really believe that You know you have Nothing to win and nothing to lose From fixtures and forces and friends Your sorrow does stem That hype you and type you Making you feel That you gotta be just like them.
I'd forever talk to you But soon my words They would turn into a meaningless ring For deep in my heart I know there is no help I can bring Everything passes Everything changes Just do what you think you should do And someday, maybe Who knows, baby I'll come and be cryin' to you.
17 giugno
Stuck inside of mobile with the memphis blues again
Perry, dig this ....
Oh, the ragman draws circles Up and down the block I’d ask him what the matter was But I know that he don’t talk And the ladies treat me kindly And furnish me with tape But deep inside my heart I know I can’t escape Oh, Mama, can this really be the end To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again
Well, Shakespeare, he’s in the alley With his pointed shoes and his bells Speaking to some French girl Who says she knows me well And I would send a message To find out if she’s talked But the post office has been stolen And the mailbox is locked Oh, Mama, can this really be the end To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again
Mona tried to tell me To stay away from the train line She said that all the railroad men Just drink up your blood like wine An’ I said, “Oh, I didn’t know that But then again, there’s only one I’ve met An’ he just smoked my eyelids An’ punched my cigarette” Oh, Mama, can this really be the end To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again
Grandpa died last week And now he’s buried in the rocks But everybody still talks about How badly they were shocked But me, I expected it to happen I knew he’d lost control When he built a fire on Main Street And shot it full of holes Oh, Mama, can this really be the end To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again
Now the senator came down here Showing ev’ryone his gun Handing out free tickets To the wedding of his son An’ me, I nearly got busted An’ wouldn’t it be my luck To get caught without a ticket And be discovered beneath a truck Oh, Mama, can this really be the end To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again
Now the preacher looked so baffled When I asked him why he dressed With twenty pounds of headlines Stapled to his chest But he cursed me when I proved it to him Then I whispered, “Not even you can hide You see, you’re just like me I hope you’re satisfied” Oh, Mama, can this really be the end To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again
Now the rainman gave me two cures Then he said, “Jump right in” The one was Texas medicine The other was just railroad gin An’ like a fool I mixed them An’ it strangled up my mind An’ now people just get uglier An’ I have no sense of time Oh, Mama, can this really be the end To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again
When Ruthie says come see her In her honky-tonk lagoon Where I can watch her waltz for free ’Neath her Panamanian moon An’ I say, “Aw come on now You must know about my debutante” An’ she says, “Your debutante just knows what you need But I know what you want” Oh, Mama, can this really be the end To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again
Now the bricks lay on Grand Street Where the neon madmen climb They all fall there so perfectly It all seems so well timed An’ here I sit so patiently Waiting to find out what price You have to pay to get out of Going through all these things twice Oh, Mama, can this really be the end To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again
18 giugno
Things have changed
A worried man with a worried mind No one in front of me and nothing behind There’s a woman on my lap and she’s drinking champagne Got white skin, got assassin’s eyes I’m looking up into the sapphire-tinted skies I’m well dressed, waiting on the last train
Standing on the gallows with my head in a noose Any minute now I’m expecting all hell to break loose
People are crazy and times are strange I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range I used to care, but things have changed
This place ain’t doing me any good I’m in the wrong town, I should be in Hollywood Just for a second there I thought I saw something move Gonna take dancing lessons, do the jitterbug rag Ain’t no shortcuts, gonna dress in drag Only a fool in here would think he’s got anything to prove
Lot of water under the bridge, lot of other stuff too Don’t get up gentlemen, I’m only passing through
People are crazy and times are strange I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range I used to care, but things have changed
I’ve been walking forty miles of bad road If the Bible is right, the world will explode I’ve been trying to get as far away from myself as I can Some things are too hot to touch The human mind can only stand so much You can’t win with a losing hand
Feel like falling in love with the first woman I meet Putting her in a wheelbarrow and wheeling her down the street
People are crazy and times are strange I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range I used to care, but things have changed
I hurt easy, I just don’t show it You can hurt someone and not even know it The next sixty seconds could be like an eternity Gonna get low down, gonna fly high All the truth in the world adds up to one big lie I’m in love with a woman who don’t even appeal to me
Mr. Jinx and Miss Lucy, they jumped in the lake I’m not that eager to make a mistake
People are crazy and times are strange I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range I used to care, but things have changed
19 giugno
Tombstone blues
The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course The city fathers they’re trying to endorse The reincarnation of Paul Revere’s horse But the town has no need to be nervous
The ghost of Belle Starr she hands down her wits To Jezebel the nun she violently knits A bald wig for Jack the Ripper who sits At the head of the chamber of commerce
Mama’s in the fact’ry She ain’t got no shoes Daddy’s in the alley He’s lookin’ for the fuse I’m in the streets With the tombstone blues
The hysterical bride in the penny arcade Screaming she moans, “I’ve just been made” Then sends out for the doctor who pulls down the shade Says, “My advice is to not let the boys in”
Now the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside He walks with a swagger and he says to the bride “Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride You will not die, it’s not poison”
Mama’s in the fact’ry She ain’t got no shoes Daddy’s in the alley He’s lookin’ for the fuse I’m in the streets With the tombstone blues
Well, John the Baptist after torturing a thief Looks up at his hero the Commander-in-Chief Saying, “Tell me great hero, but please make it brief Is there a hole for me to get sick in?”
The Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly Saying, “Death to all those who would whimper and cry” And dropping a barbell he points to the sky Saying, “The sun’s not yellow it’s chicken”
Mama’s in the fact’ry She ain’t got no shoes Daddy’s in the alley He’s lookin’ for the fuse I’m in the streets With the tombstone blues
The king of the Philistines his soldiers to save Puts jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the slaves Then sends them out to the jungle
Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch he burns out their camps With his faithful slave Pedro behind him he tramps With a fantastic collection of stamps To win friends and influence his uncle
Mama’s in the fact’ry She ain’t got no shoes Daddy’s in the alley He’s lookin’ for the fuse I’m in the streets With the tombstone blues
The geometry of innocence flesh on the bone Causes Galileo’s math book to get thrown At Delilah who sits worthlessly alone But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter
Now I wish I could give Brother Bill his great thrill I would set him in chains at the top of the hill Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille He could die happily ever after
Mama’s in the fact’ry She ain’t got no shoes Daddy’s in the alley He’s lookin’ for the fuse I’m in the streets With the tombstone blues
Where Ma Rainey and Beethoven once unwrapped their bedroll Tuba players now rehearse around the flagpole And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps for the soul To the old folks home and the college
Now I wish I could write you a melody so plain That could hold you dear lady from going insane That could ease you and cool you and cease the pain Of your useless and pointless knowledge
Mama’s in the fact’ry She ain’t got no shoes Daddy’s in the alley He’s lookin’ for the fuse I’m in the streets With the tombstone blues
20 giugno
Pledging my time
Well, early in the mornin’ ’Til late at night I got a poison headache But I feel all right I’m pledging my time to you Hopin’ you’ll come through, too
Well, the hobo jumped up He came down natur’lly After he stole my baby Then he wanted to steal me But I’m pledging my time to you Hopin’ you’ll come through, too
Won’t you come with me, baby? I’ll take you where you wanna go And if it don’t work out You’ll be the first to know I’m pledging my time to you Hopin’ you’ll come through, too
Well, the room is so stuffy I can hardly breathe Ev’rybody’s gone but me and you And I can’t be the last to leave I’m pledging my time to you Hopin’ you’ll come through, too
Well, they sent for the ambulance And one was sent Somebody got lucky But it was an accident Now I’m pledging my time to you Hopin’ you’ll come through, too
perrycoloso
Messaggi : 1376 Data d'iscrizione : 02.04.10 Età : 40 Località : rimini
Titolo: Re: L'Anno Dylaniano Mar Giu 14, 2011 12:08 pm
avanti sul lavoro???qua ti potremmo concedere le ferie anticipate anche! grande cat..immensa e bellissima
Ramblin’ outa the wild West Leavin’ the towns I love the best Thought I’d seen some ups and downs ’Til I come into New York town People goin’ down to the ground Buildings goin’ up to the sky
Wintertime in New York town The wind blowin’ snow around Walk around with nowhere to go Somebody could freeze right to the bone I froze right to the bone New York Times said it was the coldest winter in seventeen years I didn’t feel so cold then
I swung onto my old guitar Grabbed hold of a subway car And after a rocking, reeling, rolling ride I landed up on the downtown side Greenwich Village
I walked down there and ended up In one of them coffee-houses on the block Got on the stage to sing and play Man there said, “Come back some other day You sound like a hillbilly We want folk singers here”
Well, I got a harmonica job, begun to play Blowin’ my lungs out for a dollar a day I blowed inside out and upside down The man there said he loved m’ sound He was ravin’ about how he loved m’ sound Dollar a day’s worth
And after weeks and weeks of hangin’ around I finally got a job in New York town In a bigger place, bigger money too Even joined the union and paid m’ dues
Now, a very great man once said That some people rob you with a fountain pen It didn’t take too long to find out Just what he was talkin’ about A lot of people don’t have much food on their table But they got a lot of forks ’n’ knives And they gotta cut somethin’
So one mornin’ when the sun was warm I rambled out of New York town Pulled my cap down over my eyes And headed out for the western skies So long, New York Howdy, East Orange