Les meilleurs morceaux de Bob Dylan selon murph_

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The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain
And these visions of Johanna are now all that remain

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How does it feel ?
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone

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Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today until tomorrow

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The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is rapidly fadin’
And the first one now will later be last
For the times they are a-changin’

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Live at The Bitter End, 1975

I march in the parade of liberty
But as long as I love you, I’m not free

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I met one man who was wounded in love
I met another man who was wounded in hatred

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There’s a woman on my lap and she’s drinking champagne
Got white skin, got assassin's eyes
I’m looking up into the sapphire-tinted skies
I’m well dressed, waiting on the last train

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But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind

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I can’t even remember what it was I came here to get away from
Don’t even hear a murmur of a prayer
It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting there

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See them big plantations burning
Hear the cracking of the whips
Smell that sweet magnolia blooming
See the ghosts of slavery ships

There's a chain gang on the highway
I can hear them rebels yell
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

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I know all about poison, I know all about fiery darts
I don’t care how rough the road is, show me where it starts

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Love is so simple, to quote a phrase
You’ve known it all the time, I’m learnin’ it these days

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I was thinking of a series of dreams
Where nothing comes up to the top
Everything stays down where it’s wounded
And comes to a permanent stop

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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

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Outside in the distance, a wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl

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Hey, Woody Guthrie, but I know that you know
All the things that I'm a-sayin' and a-many times more
I'm a-singin' you this song, but I can't sing enough
'Cause there's not many men that done the things that you've done

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Where do you look for this hope that you know is out there somewhere
You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you go to Brooklyn State Hospital
You'll find God in the church of your choice
You'll find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital

And though it's only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You'll find them both
In the Grand Canyon
At sundown

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Woody Guthrie

As I was walking that ribbon of highway
I saw above me that endless skyway
I saw below me that golden valley
This land was made for you and me

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I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea
Sometimes I turn, there’s someone there, other times it’s only me

In the fury of the moment I can see the master's hand
In every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand

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They sat together in the park
As the evening sky grew dark
She looked at him and he felt a spark
Tingle to his bones
'Twas then he felt alone

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That long black cloud is comin’ down
I feel like I’m knockin’ on heaven’s door

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Nobody feels any pain
Tonight as I stand inside the rain

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They’re selling postcards of the hanging
They’re painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town

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Play Art Pepper, Thelonious Monk
Charlie Parker and all that junk
All that junk and All That Jazz
Play something for The Birdman of Alcatraz

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With your silhouette when the sunlight dims
Into your eyes where the moonlight swims

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I’m a-wonderin’ if she remembers me at all
Many times I’ve often prayed
In the darkness of my night
In the brightness of my day

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Most of the time
I can't even be sure
If she was ever with me
Or if I was with her

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I've been to Sugartown, I shook the sugar down
Now I'm tryin' to get to heaven before they close the door

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Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail
The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder

Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an’ worse
An’ for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe

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The guilty undertaker sighs
The lonesome organ grinder cries
The silver saxophones say I should refuse you