Bob Dylan - Tangled up in Blue (lyrics)

Offline σα(ρε)μαλι

  • Hero Member
  • *****
    • Posts: 1293
    • Gender:Male
  • Σταβανγκεριανό μου έαρ
Early one mornin' the sun was shinin',
I was layin' in bed
Wond'rin' if she'd changed at all
If her hair was still red.
Her folks they said our lives together
Sure was gonna be rough
They never did like Mama's homemade dress
Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.
And I was standin' on the side of the road
Rain fallin' on my shoes
Heading out for the East Coast
Lord knows I've paid some dues gettin' through,
Tangled up in blue.

She was married when we first met
Soon to be divorced
I helped her out of a jam, I guess,
But I used a little too much force.
We drove that car as far as we could
Abandoned it out West
Split up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best.
She turned around to look at me
As I was walkin' away
I heard her say over my shoulder,
"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,"
Tangled up in blue.

I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the ax just fell.
So I drifted down to New Orleans
Where I happened to be employed
Workin' for a while on a fishin' boat
Right outside of Delacroix.
But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind,
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind, and I just grew
Tangled up in blue.

She was workin' in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer,
I just kept lookin' at the side of her face
In the spotlight so clear.
And later on as the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same,
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me, "Don't I know your name?"
I muttered somethin' underneath my breath,
She studied the lines on my face.
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,
Tangled up in blue.

She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
"I thought you'd never say hello," she said
"You look like the silent type."
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century.
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burnin' coal
Pourin' off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you,
Tangled up in blue.

I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs,
There was music in the cafes at night
And revolution in the air.
Then he started into dealing with slaves
And something inside of him died.
She had to sell everything she owned
And froze up inside.
And when finally the bottom fell out
I became withdrawn,
The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keepin' on like a bird that flew,
Tangled up in blue.

So now I'm goin' back again,
I got to get to her somehow.
All the people we used to know
They're an illusion to me now.
Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenter's wives.
Don't know how it all got started,
I don't know what they're doin' with their lives.
But me, I'm still on the road
Headin' for another joint
We always did feel the same,
We just saw it from a different point of view,
Tangled up in blue.
« Last Edit: 20 Oct, 2008, 22:40:46 by Ion »
I can live everywhere in the world, but it must be near an airport -and a pharmacy, I would add.

Δεν είναι ο ύπνος της λογικής που γεννάει τέρατα, αλλά ο άγρυπνος ορθολογισμός που πάσχει από αϋπνίες.


Offline banned8

  • Jr. Member
  • **
    • Posts: 132
    • Gender:Male
Υπάρχει σε καλύτερη ποιότητα κρυμμένο πίσω από την εικόνα.




Offline wings

  • Global Moderator
  • Hero Member
  • *****
    • Posts: 68113
    • Gender:Female
  • Vicky Papaprodromou
    • vicky.papaprodromou
    • @hellenic_wings
    • hellenicwings
    • Βίκυ Παπαπροδρόμου: ό,τι πολύ αγάπησα (ποίηση, πεζογραφία & μουσική)
Ευχαριστούμε σας, Κώστα και Νίκο.:-)


Offline σα(ρε)μαλι

  • Hero Member
  • *****
    • Posts: 1293
    • Gender:Male
  • Σταβανγκεριανό μου έαρ
Και με αφορμή την εικόνα, που είναι από το βίντεο του Subterranean Homesick Blues, το ρίχνουμε κι αυτό. Είναι άλλωστε απολαυστικότατο.

Johnnys in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
Im on the pavement
Thinking about the government
The man in the trench coat
Badge out, laid off
Says hes got a bad cough
Wants to get it paid off
Look out kid
is somethin you did
God knows when
But youre doin it again
You better duck down the alley way
Lookin for a new friend
The man in the coon-skin cap
In the big pen
Wants eleven dollar bills
You only got ten

Maggie comes fleet foot
Face full of black soot
Talkin that the heat put
Plants in the bed but
The phones tapped anyway
Maggie says that many say
They must bust in early May
Orders from the d. a.
Look out kid
Dont matter what you did
Walk on your tip toes
Dont try no doz
Better stay away from those
That carry around a fire hose
Keep a clean nose
Watch the plain clothes
You dont need a weather man
To know which way the wind blows

Get sick, get well
Hang around a ink well
Ring bell, hard to tell
If anything is goin to sell
Try hard, get barred
Get back, write braille
Get jailed, jump bail
Join the army, if you fail
Look out kid
Youre gonna get hit
But losers, cheaters
Six-time users
Hang around the theaters
Girl by the whirlpool
Lookin for a new fool
Dont follow leaders
Watch the parkin meters

Ah get born, keep warm
Short pants, romance, learn to dance
Get dressed, get blessed
Try to be a success
Please her, please him, buy gifts
Dont steal, dont lift
Twenty years of schoolin
And they put you on the day shift
Look out kid
They keep it all hid
Better jump down a manhole
Light yourself a candle
Dont wear sandals
Try to avoid the scandals
Dont wanna be a bum
You better chew gum
The pump dont work
cause the vandals took the handle

http://subterranean_homesick_blues_24
« Last Edit: 28 Dec, 2010, 14:18:34 by Ion »
I can live everywhere in the world, but it must be near an airport -and a pharmacy, I would add.

Δεν είναι ο ύπνος της λογικής που γεννάει τέρατα, αλλά ο άγρυπνος ορθολογισμός που πάσχει από αϋπνίες.



Offline Ion

  • Moderator
  • Hero Member
  • *****
    • Posts: 2364
    • Gender:Male
  • 1. Διατήρηση ψυχραιμίας 2. Αξιολόγηση βλάβης


Bob Dylan - Tangled Up In Blue
« Last Edit: 28 Dec, 2010, 09:08:38 by Ion »
There is no prosthetic for an amputated spirit
Lt Col Frank Slade (Al Pacino, Scent of a woman)


Offline Ion

  • Moderator
  • Hero Member
  • *****
    • Posts: 2364
    • Gender:Male
  • 1. Διατήρηση ψυχραιμίας 2. Αξιολόγηση βλάβης


Bob Dylan - Subterranean Homesick Blues
There is no prosthetic for an amputated spirit
Lt Col Frank Slade (Al Pacino, Scent of a woman)


 

Search Tools