Bob Dylan is maybe the coolest guy who ever lived. And here's one of my favorite lyrics from a great song off an under appreciated album:
Your sister sees the future
Like your mama and yourself.
You've never learned to read or write
There's no books upon your shelf.
And your pleasure knows no limits
Your voice is like a meadowlark
But your heart is like an ocean
Mysterious and dark.
That last line kills me. Fucking genius. And the violin is devastating.
That whole song evokes in me a short story by Steinbeck called "Flight." Don't ask me why. It might be a tone thing. Maybe it's the mix of American mysticism and hard reality. Maybe it's because the two families described could be neighbors. Maybe it's the outlaw themes. Read the story here.
Watch a performance of the song here:
