And This is How You Get a Nobel Prize

Idiot Wind by Bob Dylan

Selected lyrics:

Someone’s got it in for me
They’re planting stories in the press
Whoever it is I wish they’d cut it out quick
But when they will I can only guess
They say I shot a man named Gray
And took his wife to Italy
She inherited a million bucks
And when she died it came to me
I can’t help it if I’m lucky

Idiot wind
Blowing every time you move your mouth
Blowing down the back roads headin’ south
Idiot wind
Blowing every time you move your teeth
You’re an idiot, babe
It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe

In the final end he won the wars
After losin’ every battle

I woke up on the roadside
Daydreamin’ ’bout the way things sometimes are
Visions of your chestnut mare
Shoot through my head and are makin’ me see stars

Blood on your saddle

It was gravity which pulled us down
And destiny which broke us apart

The priest wore black on the seventh day
And sat stone-faced while the building burned

I waited for you on the running boards
Near the cypress trees, while the springtime turned
Slowly into autumn

Down the highway, down the tracks
Down the road to ecstasy
I followed you beneath the stars
Hounded by your memory
And all your ragin’ glory

You’ll never know the hurt I suffered
Nor the pain I rise above
And I’ll never know the same about you
Your holiness or your kind of love
And it makes me feel so sorry

Idiot wind
Blowing through the buttons of our coats
Blowing through the letters that we wrote
Idiot wind
Blowing through the dust upon our shelves
We’re idiots, babe
It’s a wonder we can even feed ourselves

About thomasfarley01

Freelance writer specializing in outdoor subjects, particularly rocks, gems and minerals.
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