Bob
Dylan 116th dream
Well, I went downtown to hear Bob play
“Cost ya a dollar” I heard the man say.
I gave him a dollar and went inside--
Found me the hall. It was big and wide--
People standin’round and stomping their feet,
Bob standing there just taking the heat.
Seems his band hadn’t shown--he’s all alone,
Rockin’ back and forth in a kind of moan.
He leaned to the mike and mumbled some words
Couldn’t make it out, sounded like birds.
I asked someone, What’s he sayin’
What’s he doing? Is he goin' or stayin'?”
The guy he translates through the din,
Says Bob’s looking for someone to rescue him.
Bob needs a drummer just to keep on throbin'.
He knows the tunes, that’s not the problem.
If someone could beat on a lonely drum,
The rest he’s sure he could sing or hum.
Well no one seemed to steppin’ forward
Folks were restless and heading doorward.
I guess I figured it was up to me--
I jumped on stage, said, “Bob, you’re free.”
I grabbed me some sticks and one big drum,
Just one would do, cuz’ I’m pretty dumb.
I missed the drum some but I hit it most,
Bob looked he looked like he’d seen a ghost.
He knew right there his rep-e-tory
Was inadequate to tell this story.
So he leaned into that microphone
And he started talk--it was kind of a drone.
He told the folks about his life
How he struggled each day, how he wanted a wife.
But all of his wives had hit the road--
They found his music too much of a load.
Their minds turned purple, their lives turned green,
When they saw they’d married a music machine
So they went out the door lickety split
Leavin’ Bob standin’ there too dry to spit.
That why he goes on the road each night.
Otherwise who knows, he might
Have to think about all he’s lost--
Making his music and what it’s cost.
Well, I kept time as good as I could,
My heart was leather and my hands were wood.
I was thinking about my own good life,
How I’d loved and married my one sweet wife.
How we’d raised our kids and paid the bills,
Not much time left over for thrills,
Goin’ each day to an OK job,
Nothin’ to match the life of Bob.
I’d made no songs, I didn’t have time,
And not much ear for meter or rhyme.
So I’d relied on others to make my art,
And I’d just done the listening part.
When Bob looked back to see how we’re doin’,
I could see he saw we had something brewin’
Between us was running a kind of knowledge
We couldn’t a got in no kinda college.
We were dancing a dance as old as time,
One with the power to stop all crime,
Heal the sick and set slaves free
Get the Pope and President to all agree.
If we hadn’t quite danced it, lat least not yet,
We’d come as close as most folks get
The crowd got quiet, there was no applause
They knew it wasn’t Santa Claus--
There were hearin’ something they’d never forget
They couldn’t explain it, at least not yet.
Well, the band showed the very next day
Picked up their instruments went on their way.
Bob never said nothing, ‘bout our special night.
I expect he thinks it wouldn’t be right
To share too much about him and me
And the night he let his heart run free,
But I hear his songs and I know we know
How much we’ve paid and how much we owe.