BOB DYLAN

Visions Of Johanna

  folk  singer-songwriter  classic rock  rock  folk rock
2,058 3 часа назад

Текст песни BOB DYLAN - Visions Of Johanna

BOB DYLAN - Visions Of Johanna слова песни



Текст песни BOB DYLAN - Visions Of Johanna




Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quiet ? We sit here stranded, though we're all doin our best to deny itAnd Louise holds a handfull of rain, tempting you to defy itLights flicker from the opposite loftIn this room the heat pipes just coughThe country music station plays softBut there's nothing really nothing to turn of( )Just Louise and her lover so entwinedAnd these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind.In the empty lot where the ladies play blindman's bluff with the key chainAnd the all-night girls they whisper of escapades out on the D-trainWe can hear the night watcman click his flashlightAsk himself if it's him or them that's really insaneLouise she's all right she's just nearShe's delicate and seems like the mirrorBut she just makes it all too concise and too clearThat Johanna's not hereThe ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her faceWhere these visions of Johanna have now taken my place.Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriouslyHe brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerouslyAnd when bringing her name upHe speaks of a farewell kiss to meHe's sure got a lotta gall to be so useless and allMuttering small talk at the wall while I'm in the hallOh, how can I explain ?It's so hard to get onAnd these visions of Johanna they kept me up past the dawn.Inside the museums, Infinity goes up on trialVoices echo this is what salvation must be like after a whileBut Mona Lisa musta had the highway bluesYou can tell by the way she smilesSee the primitive wallflower freezeWhen the jelly-faced women all sneezeHear the one with the mustache say, "JeezeI can't find my knees"Oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the muleBut these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel.The peddler now speaks to the countess who's pretending to care for himSaying, "Name me someone that's not a parasite and I'll go out and say a prayer for him"But like Louise always says"Ya can't look at much, can ya man "As she, herself prepares for himAnd Madonna, she still has not showedWe see this empty cage now corrodeWhere her cape of the stage once had flowedThe fiddler, he now steps to the roadHe writes ev'rything's been returned which was owedOn the back of the fish truck that loadsWhile my conscience explodesThe harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rainAnd these visions of Johanna are now all that remain.




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