I pray for rain because I'm trying
|
To find god and make him cry,
|
Because I'm dying in a fire beneath my covers.
|
And somewhere out across the way,
|
You ask for salt across a plate,
|
And you can't find a word to say
|
To your own brother.
|
|
And you could call me over now,
|
And we could fix this with our mouths,
|
But you don't buy the farm,
|
If you can't afford the cow.
|
|
And you say Dylan is a sentiment
|
That you don't want to share,
|
And you say you looked back in anger
|
And it rose to meet your stare,
|
And you say I am not the one
|
Who puts the bullet to your gun
|
And makes it flare.
|
And you say Dylan is a sentiment to you,
|
And you don't want to share.
|
|
You say you're looking for the truth,
|
Like you got rifles in your books,
|
But up above your parents' roof
|
I saw no star tonight,
|
Only the black from whence you came,
|
And where they'll send you back again,
|
And no blue plaque will keep your name
|
From falling out of sight.
|
|
And you can wage this war of one,
|
And I am still the only one
|
Who will remember you when you are gone.
|
|
And you say Dylan is a sentiment
|
That you don't want to share,
|
And you say you looked back in anger
|
And it rose to meet your stare,
|
And you say I am not the one
|
Who puts the bullet to your gun
|
And makes it flare.
|
And you say Dylan is a sentiment to you,
|
And you don't want to share.
|
|
Oh and all the things you talk about
|
But never say to me,
|
And all the things to talk about
|
That I could say to you,
|
Like reading an Italian book
|
From the 13th century,
|
Is not that hard to do.
|
|
And I am not the kind
|
Who puts their toe against the line
|
And makes it tear,
|
But this could be the thing
|
That puts the blood into your skin
|
And keeps it there.
|
|
And you say Dylan is a sentiment
|
That no one else will ever understand.
|
And you say Dylan is a sentiment to you,
|
But you are only just a man.
|
|
-----------------
|
Dylan
|
| Emmy the Great & Tim Wheeler |
