Bob's Written Word
For Dave Glover
(From the Newport Folk Festival program 1963) We used t drink cough medicine bottles a vodka t'gether We used t stay up all nite laughin and singin And we did that when there weren't too many people doin it Hey man - I'm sorry - // I mean I'm really sorry I wrote many lines in the past few years but there ain't no letters in none a the words t spell out how sorry I am It's a complicated day I keep rememberin the songs we used t sing an play The songs written thirty fifty years ago The dirt farm songs - the dust bowl songs The depression songs - the down and out songs The ol blues and ballads I think a Woody's songs I think a Woody's day "This land I'll defend with my life if it be" An I say t myself "Yeah that's right" "Hitler's on the march" "I don't wan''m takin my ground" "I don't wan''m livin on my land" An I see two side man I see two roads to pick yer route The American way or the Fascist way When there was a strike there's only two kind of views An two kinds of tales t tell the news Thru the unions eyes or thru the bosses eyes An yuh could stand on a line an look at yer friends An stand on that same line an see yer foes It was that easy "Which Side're You On" ain't phony words An they ain't from a phony song An that was Woody's day man Two sides I don know what happened cause I wasn't aroun but somewhere along the line a that used t be day things got messed up More kinds a sides come int' the story Folks I guess started switchin sides an makin up their own sides There got t be so many sides that no eyes could could see the eyes facin'm There got t be so many sides that all of'm started lookin' like each other I don pretend to know what happened man, but somehow all sides lost their purpose an folks forgot about other folks I mean they must a all started goin against each other not for the good a their side but for the good a jes their own selves An them two simple sides that was so easy t tell apart bashed an boomed an exploded so hard an heavy that t'day all'ts left and made for us is the one big rockin rollin COMPLICATED CIRCLE Nowadays folk's brains're bamboozled an bowled over by categories labels an slogans an advertisements that could send anybody's head in a spin It's hard t believe anybody's tellin the truth for what that is I swear it's true that in some parts a the country folks believe the finger-pointers more'n the President It's the time a the flag wavin shotgun carryin John Birchers It's the time a the killer dogs an killer sprays It's the time a the billbord sign super flyin highways It's the time a the pushbutton foods an five minute fads It's the time a the white collar shirt an the white sheeted hood and the white man's sun tan lotion It's time a guns and grenades an bombs bigger'n any time's ever seen It's the time a Liz Taylor fans - sports fans and electric fans It's the time when a twenty year ol colored boy with his head bloody don get too much thought from the seventy year ol senator who wants t bomb Cuba I don't know who the people were man that let it get this way but they got what they wanted out a their lives an left me an you facin a scared raped world They frained the free thinkin air an left us with a mental institution circle They rotted the poor wind and left us mixed up mislead puny breeze They stole Abraham Lincoln's road an sold us Bill Moore's highway They shot down trees - buried the leaves an nailed "Profess" t the gravestone They damned up the clear runnin river of "Love thy neighbor" said by Jesus Christ a Bethlehem an poluted us with "I'll guard" "the school with my body" said by governor Wallace of Alabama They robbed the Constitution of the land an snuck in the censors of the mind They bought up everythin at the auction an left us with a garbage market a fools an fears an frustratin phoniness Yuh ask how I'm doin Dave I'm still singin - I'm still writin I'm still doin all a things I used to do I guess But the difference is probably that now I really ain't thinkin about what I'm doing no more I do worry no more bout the covered up lies and twisted truth in front a my eyes I don worry no more bout the no-talent criticizers an know-nothin philosophizers I don worry no more bout the cross-legged corner sitters who try an make rules for the ones travelin in the middle a the room I'm singin an writin what's on my own mind now What's in my own head and what's in my own heart I'm singin for me an a million other me's that've been forced t'gether by the same feelin Not by no kind a side Not by no kind a category People hung up and strung out People frustrated an corked in an bottled up People on no special form or field - age limit or class I can't sing "Red Apple juice" no more I gotta sing "masters a War" I can't sing "Little Maggie" with a clear head I gotta sing "Seven Curses" instead I can't sing "John Henry" I gotta sing "Hollis Brown" I can't Sing "John Johannah" cause it's his story an his people's story I gotta sing "With God On My Side" cause it's my story an my people's I can't sing "The Girl I Left Behind" cause I know what it's like to do it I gotta sing "Boots a Spanish Leather" cause I know what's like to live it But don't get me wrong now Don think I go way out a my way not t sing no folk songs That ain't it at all The folk songs showed me the way They showed me that songs can say somethin human Without "Barbara Allen" there'd be no "Girl From The North Country" Without no "Lone Green Valley" there'd be no "Don't Think Twice" Without no "Jesse James" there'd be no "Davy Moore" Without no "Twenty one Years" there'd be no "Walls a Red Wing" Hell no Them ol songs're the only kinda picture left t show the new born how it used t be in them times Them ol songs tell us what they had t run thru or walk thru or dance thru The ol songs tell how they loved an how they kissed They tell us what they rejected and objected to They laid it down an made the path They were simple an tol the story straight They said who they fought an what they fought for an with what they fought with An who they fought against Now's a complicated day An all I'm sayin' is'at I gotta make my own statement bout this day I gotta write my own feelins down the same way they did it before me in that used t be day An I got nothin but homage an holy thinkin for the ol songs and stories But now there's me an you An I'm doin what I'm doin for me An I'm doin what I'm doin for you I'm writin an singin for me An I'm writin an singin for you I'm writin an singin for me cause I'm human an I'm breathin In a world that was made for me I'm writin an singin for you cause yer a part a me an everythin I stand for I don know why I aint written t yuh maybe cause I never write letters t'myself yeah maybe that's why See yuh when I get there yer friend Bob Dylan
Bob's Written Word