Song for Bob Dylan
I sing a song for Bobby boy
Which one of you do we think that we know
A young man creating a self in Minnesota singing Woody songs
Rhyming his way to stages in NYC
Finding his protest voice in winds of change
When the US tried to restart itself led by babes in genes
Changing times blew in changing rhymes
Turn the electric on and play it loud
We didn't hear you the first time
Quick shovel dirt on Masters of War and quit the Maggie's farm
Iconic hair and the spotlight was bright
It's alright Ma he's only bleeding
The charge was set, the time arise
Slamming motorcycles and hiding back with the band in a basement
Singing songs of baseball pitchers and outlaws
Laying ladies in Nashville
A fury past, the ins and outs and ups and downs
Have another cup of coffee as Isis ascends
We've all had to bend and tie our bootlaces saying yes, I guess
Huge stages grow small as his voice grows gruff
But the words, oh the words
Idiot winds releasing blood on her tracks in leopard pill box hats
Releasing everything broken on political worlds
He's still alias just alias
With his modern times singing working man's blues
When poetry sings it sounds like the mountain's alive
As the sun whispers shouts of glee
That jester's still in the glazed gleam of his eye
He waits alone in his house