The way he says
baby just kills me dead.
He returns from
Newport tongue on fire.
Something’s
changed, something’s happening here.
We sin, repent,
gargle in the rat race choir.
And we spare no
expense when it’s someone else’s money or creativity.
But Dylan he’s
cut from an entirely poles apart cloth and the medicine he was mixing up in ’65
and ‘66 is like nothing heard before or since.
We travel the
roadways and byways believing we’re something special, something exceptional
when nothing could be further from the truth.
I believe
America is afraid of its own shadow. I believe ISIS or ISIL or whatever you
choose to call them has got our number and if we’re not careful they’ll shake
us to our very foundation.
I also believe
the world will not tolerate intolerance for long and when push finally comes to
shove we’ll slay these fire breathing dragons because that’s what knights in
shining armor do.
He stands tall
in that studio like a traveling salesman or besmirched romantic.
I have a friend
named Jerry whose sideburns are legendary and when he sings like a bird I
discover myself no longer walking in the
darkness alone.
Oh yes “If I
was a master thief perhaps I’d rob them,” but your heartbreaks are none of my
business so I’ll just stand over here all by my lonesome and bowl a strike or
two in your spare time.
The way he
delivers the word winning restores my
faith in humankind because the past is ours to acknowledge or dispel at our own
detriment.
Bob Johnston
seems like a better fit as a new day rained down upon them like user-friendly
lightning bolts from a love-struck God.
When Dylan’s in
the zone there’s no one better equipped at shining a light on all of the possibilities
that were not even imaginable until he entered the studio.
“It Takes A Lot
To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry” and I’m quite certain this is true no matter
what side you’re on.
Bobby navigates
these inroads better than anyone because he’s not afraid to succeed or fail on
his own terms as he sacrifices everything including his wellbeing.
There are many
rock ‘n’ roll animals, but none of them seem as hungry or as literal as Dylan when
he’s firing on all cylinders.
Charles Cicirella
11/15/15
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