I can't understand She let go of my hand An' left me here facing the wall I'd sure like to know Why she'd go ...

At dawn my lover comes to me and tells me of her dreams With no attempt to shovel the glimpse into the ditch of what each one means. ...

So what can I say about Bob Dylan? Flat-out nothing, because there is no one and nothing like him. As if he's the Taj Mahal, or Abra...