bob dylan @ hollywood bowl 10.26.12

ps through my ears i hear bob dylan live!
listen up:



ps ps
we enjoyed the show. goodnight mr. dylan.

birthday happiness to you mr. bob dylan

ps american folk music is something that i adore. dylan's music makes my eyes turn to sunshine.

bob dylan ~ spanish harlem blues

ps
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
to 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

twelve

ps 12...
~ the word "twelve" is the largest number with a single-morpheme name in english.
~ a group of twelve things is called a duodecad.
~ the average human has twelve cranial nerves.
~ there are 12 days of christmas.
~ most calendar systems have twelve months in a year.
~ twelve is the number of pitch classes in an octave.
~ "twelve drummers drumming" is the gift on the twelfth day of christmas in the carol "the twelve days of christmas"
~ there are twelve basic hues in the color wheel.
~ there are 12 constellations in the ecliptic.
~ 12 inches in a foot.
~ 12 hours in a clock.


ps ps it feels like forever

times they are a changin

ps

birthday wishes sent to you mr. bob dylan

ps thank you much mr. dylan. we love you! mwahhhh.....

bob dylan ~ it's alright ma {i'm only bleeding}

darkness at the break of noon
shadows even the silver spoon
the handmade blade, the child’s balloon
eclipses both the sun and moon
to understand you know too soon
there is no sense in trying
pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
suicide remarks are torn
from the fool’s gold mouthpiece the hollow horn
plays wasted words, proves to warn
THAT HE NOT BUSY BEING BORN IS BUSY DYING

temptation’s page flies out the door
you follow, find yourself at war
watch waterfalls of pity roar
you feel to moan but unlike before
you discover that you’d just be one more
person crying

so don’t fear if you hear
a foreign sound to your ear
it’s alright, ma, I’m only sighing

as some warn victory, some downfall
private reasons great or small
can be seen in the eyes of those that call
to make all that should be killed to crawl
while others say don’t hate nothing at all
except hatred

disillusioned words like bullets bark
as human gods aim for their mark
make everything from toy guns that spark
to flesh-colored christs that glow in the dark
it’s easy to see without looking too far
that not much is really sacred

while preachers preach of evil fates
teachers teach that knowledge waits
can lead to hundred-dollar plates
goodness hides behind its gates
but even the president of the united states
sometimes must have to stand naked

an’ though the rules of the road have been lodged
it’s only people’s games that you got to dodge
and it’s alright, ma, i can make it

advertising signs they con
you into thinking you’re the one
that can do what’s never been done
that can win what’s never been won
meantime life outside goes on
all around you

you lose yourself, you reappear
you suddenly find you got nothing to fear
alone you stand with nobody near
when a trembling distant voice, unclear
startles your sleeping ears to hear
THAT SOMEBODY THINKS THEY REALLY FOUND YOU

a question in your nerves is lit
yet you know there is no answer fit
to satisfy, insure you not to quit
to keep it in your mind and not forget
that it is not he or she or them or it
that you belong to

although the masters make the rules
for the wise men and the fools
i got nothing, ma, to live up to

for them that must obey authority
that they do not respect in any degree
who despise their jobs, their destinies
speak jealously of them that are free
cultivate their flowers to be
nothing more than something they invest in

while some on principles baptized
to strict party platform ties
social clubs in drag disguise
outsiders they can freely criticize
tell nothing except who to idolize
and then say god bless him

while one who sings with his tongue on fire
gargles in the rat race choir
bent out of shape from society’s pliers
cares not to come up any higher
but rather get you down in the hole
that he’s in

but i mean no harm nor put fault
on anyone that lives in a vault
but it’s alright, ma, if I can’t please him

old lady judges watch people in pairs
limited in sex, they dare
to push fake morals, insult and stare
while money doesn’t talk, it swears
obscenity, who really cares
propaganda, all is phony

while them that defend what they cannot see
with a killer’s pride, security
it blows the minds most bitterly
for them that think death’s honesty
won’t fall upon them naturally
life sometimes must get lonely

my eyes collide head-on with stuffed
graveyards, false gods, i scuff
at pettiness which plays so rough
walk upside-down inside handcuffs
kick my legs to crash it off
say okay, i have had enough, what else can you show me?

and if my thought-dreams could be seen
they’d probably put my head in a guillotine
but it’s alright, ma, it’s life, and life only

ps my gift to you is a song

quote of the day.....

then take me disappearin’ through the smoke rings of my mind
down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves
the haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach
far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free
silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands
with all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
let me forget about today until tomorrow

— bob dylan
mr. tambourine man

i could hold you for a million years... bob dylan