100 Songs Read online

  But still remains

  Upon the beach where hound dogs bay

  At ships with tattooed sails

  Heading for the Gates of Eden

  With a time-rusted compass blade

  Aladdin and his lamp

  Sits with Utopian hermit monks

  Sidesaddle on the Golden Calf

  And on their promises of paradise

  You will not hear a laugh

  All except inside the Gates of Eden

  Relationships of ownership

  They whisper in the wings

  To those condemned to act accordingly

  And wait for succeeding kings

  And I try to harmonize with songs

  The lonesome sparrow sings

  There are no kings inside the Gates of Eden

  The motorcycle black madonna

  Two-wheeled gypsy queen

  And her silver-studded phantom cause

  The gray flannel dwarf to scream

  As he weeps to wicked birds of prey

  Who pick up on his bread crumb sins

  And there are no sins inside the Gates of Eden

  The kingdoms of Experience

  In the precious wind they rot

  While paupers change possessions

  Each one wishing for what the other has got

  And the princess and the prince

  Discuss what’s real and what is not

  It doesn’t matter inside the Gates of Eden

  The foreign sun, it squints upon

  A bed that is never mine

  As friends and other strangers

  From their fates try to resign

  Leaving men wholly, totally free

  To do anything they wish to do but die

  And there are no trials inside the Gates of Eden

  At dawn my lover comes to me

  And tells me of her dreams

  With no attempts to shovel the glimpse

  Into the ditch of what each one means

  At times I think there are no words

  But these to tell what’s true

  And there are no truths outside the Gates of Eden

  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

  IT’S ALL OVER NOW, BABY BLUE

  You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last

  But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast

  Yonder stands your orphan with his gun

  Crying like a fire in the sun

  Look out the saints are comin’ through

  And it’s all over now, Baby Blue

  The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense

  Take what you have gathered from coincidence

  The empty-handed painter from your streets

  Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets

  This sky, too, is folding under you

  And it’s all over now, Baby Blue

  All your seasick sailors, they are rowing home
<
br />   All your reindeer armies, are all going home

  The lover who just walked out your door

  Has taken all his blankets from the floor

  The carpet, too, is moving under you

  And it’s all over now, Baby Blue

  Leave your stepping stones behind, something calls for you

  Forget the dead you’ve left, they will not follow you

  The vagabond who’s rapping at your door

  Is standing in the clothes that you once wore

  Strike another match, go start anew

  And it’s all over now, Baby Blue

  LIKE A ROLLING STONE

  Once upon a time you dressed so fine

  You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn’t you?

  People’d call, say, “Beware doll, you’re bound to fall”

  You thought they were all kiddin’ you

  You used to laugh about

  Everybody that was hangin’ out

  Now you don’t talk so loud

  Now you don’t seem so proud

  About having to be scrounging for your next meal

  How does it feel

  How does it feel

  To be without a home

  Like a complete unknown

  Like a rolling stone?

  You’ve gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely

  But you know you only used to get juiced in it

  And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street

  And now you find out you’re gonna have to get used to it

  You said you’d never compromise

  With the mystery tramp, but now you realize

  He’s not selling any alibis

  As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes

  And ask him do you want to make a deal?

  How does it feel

  How does it feel

  To be on your own

  With no direction home

  Like a complete unknown

  Like a rolling stone?

  You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns

  When they all come down and did tricks for you

  You never understood that it ain’t no good

  You shouldn’t let other people get your kicks for you

  You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat

  Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat

  Ain’t it hard when you discover that

  He really wasn’t where it’s at

  After he took from you everything he could steal

  How does it feel

  How does it feel

  To be on your own

  With no direction home

  Like a complete unknown

  Like a rolling stone?

  Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people

  They’re drinkin’, thinkin’ that they got it made

  Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things

  But you’d better lift your diamond ring, you’d better pawn it babe

  You used to be so amused

  At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used

  Go to him now, he calls you, you can’t refuse

  When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose

  You’re invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal

  How does it feel

  How does it feel

  To be on your own

  With no direction home

  Like a complete unknown

  Like a rolling stone?

  TOMBSTONE BLUES

  The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course

  The city fathers they’re trying to endorse

  The reincarnation of Paul Revere’s horse

  But the town has no need to be nervous

  The ghost of Belle Starr she hands down her wits

  To Jezebel the nun she violently knits

  A bald wig for Jack the Ripper who sits

  At the head of the chamber of commerce

  Mama’s in the fact’ry

  She ain’t got no shoes

  Daddy’s in the alley

  He’s lookin’ for the fuse

  I’m in the streets

  With the tombstone blues

  The hysterical bride in the penny arcade

  Screaming she moans, “I’ve just been made”

  Then sends out for the doctor who pulls down the shade

  Says, “My advice is to not let the boys in”

  Now the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside

  He walks with a swagger and he says to the bride

  “Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride

  You will not die, it’s not poison”

  Mama’s in the fact’ry

  She ain’t got no shoes

  Daddy’s in the alley

  He’s lookin’ for the fuse

  I’m in the streets

  With the tombstone blues

  Well, John the Baptist after torturing a thief

  Looks up at his hero the Commander-in-Chief

  Saying, “Tell me great hero, but please make it brief

  Is there a hole for me to get sick in?”

  The Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly

  Saying, “Death to all those who would whimper and cry”

  And dropping a barbell he points to the sky

  Saying, “The sun’s not yellow it’s chicken”

  Mama’s in the fact’ry

  She ain’t got no shoes

  Daddy’s in the alley

  He’s lookin’ for the fuse

  I’m in the streets

  With the tombstone blues

  The king of the Philistines his soldiers to save

  Puts jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves

  Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the slaves

  Then sends them out to the jungle

  Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch he burns out their camps

  With his faithful slave Pedro behind him he tramps

  With a fantastic collection of stamps

  To win friends and influence his uncle

  Mama’s in the fact’ry

  She ain’t got no shoes

  Daddy’s in the alley

  He’s lookin’ for the fuse

  I’m in the streets

  With the tombstone blues

  The geometry of innocence flesh on the bone

  Causes Galileo’s math book to get thrown

  At Delilah who sits worthlessly alone

  But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter

  Now I wish I could give Brother Bill his great thrill

  I would set him in chains at the top of the hill

  Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille

  He could die happily ever after

  Mama’s in the fact’ry

  She ain’t got no shoes

  Daddy’s in the alley

  He’s lookin’ for the fuse

  I’m in the streets

  With the tombstone blues

  Where Ma Rainey and Beethoven once unwrapped their bedroll

  Tuba players now rehearse around the flagpole

  And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps for the soul

  To the old folks home and the college

  Now I wish I could write you a melody so plain

  That could hold you dear lady from going insane

  That could ease you and cool you and cease the pain

  Of your useless and pointless knowledge

  Mama’s in the fact’ry

  She ain’t got no shoes

  Daddy’s in the alley

  He’s lookin’ for the fuse

  I’m in the streets

  With the tombstone blues

  BALLAD OF A THIN MAN

  You walk into the room

  With your pencil in your hand

  You see somebody naked

  And you say, “Who is that man?”

  You try so
hard

  But you don’t understand

  Just what you’ll say

  When you get home

  Because something is happening here

  But you don’t know what it is

  Do you, Mister Jones?

  You raise up your head

  And you ask, “Is this where it is?”

  And somebody points to you and says

  “It’s his”

  And you say, “What’s mine?”

  And somebody else says, “Where what is?”

  And you say, “Oh my God

  Am I here all alone?”

  Because something is happening here

  But you don’t know what it is

  Do you, Mister Jones?

  You hand in your ticket

  And you go watch the geek

  Who immediately walks up to you

  When he hears you speak

  And says, “How does it feel

  To be such a freak?”

  And you say, “Impossible”

  As he hands you a bone

  Because something is happening here

  But you don’t know what it is

  Do you, Mister Jones?

  You have many contacts

  Among the lumberjacks

  To get you facts

  When someone attacks your imagination

  But nobody has any respect

  Anyway they already expect you

  To just give a check

  To tax-deductible charity organizations

  You’ve been with the professors

  And they’ve all liked your looks

  With great lawyers you have

  Discussed lepers and crooks

  You’ve been through all of

  F. Scott Fitzgerald’s books

  You’re very well read

  It’s well known

  Because something is happening here

  But you don’t know what it is

  Do you, Mister Jones?

  Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you

  And then he kneels

  He crosses himself

  And then he clicks his high heels

  And without further notice

  He asks you how it feels

  And he says, “Here is your throat back

  Thanks for the loan”

  Because something is happening here

  But you don’t know what it is

  Do you, Mister Jones?

  Now you see this one-eyed midget

  Shouting the word “NOW”

  And you say, “For what reason?”

  And he says, “How?”

  And you say, “What does this mean?”

  And he screams back, “You’re a cow

  Give me some milk

  Or else go home”

  Because something is happening here

  But you don’t know what it is

  Do you, Mister Jones?

  Well, you walk into the room