I once loved a girl, her skin it was bronze
|
With the innocence of a lamb, she was gentle like a fawn
|
I courted her proudly, but now she is gone
|
Gone as the season she's taken.
|
|
Through young summer's breeze, I stole her away
|
From her mother and sister, though close did they stay
|
Each one of them suffering from the failures of their day
|
With strings of guilt they tried hard to guide us.
|
|
Of the two sister, I loved the young
|
With sensitive instincts, she was the creative one
|
The constant scapegoat, she was easily undone
|
By the jealousy of others around her.
|
|
For her parasite sister, I had no respect
|
Bound by her boredom, her pride to protect
|
Countless visions of the other she'd reflect
|
As a crutch for her scenes and her society.
|
|
Myself, for what I did, I cannot be excused
|
The changes I was going through can't even be used
|
For the lies that I told her in hopes not to lose
|
The could-be dream-lover of my lifetime.
|
|
With unseen consciousness, I possessed in my grip
|
A magnificent mantelpiece, though its heart being chipped
|
Noticing not that I'd already slipped
|
To a sin of love's false security.
|
|
From silhouetted anger to manufactured peace
|
Answers of emptiness, voice vacancies
|
Till the tombstones of damage read me no question but, "Please
|
What's wrong and what's exactly the matter ?"
|
|
And so it did happen, like it could have been foreseen
|
The timeless explosion of fantasy's dream
|
At the peak of the night, the king and the queen
|
Tumbled all down into pieces.
|
|
"The tragic figure" her sister did shout
|
"Leave her alone, God damn you, get out"
|
And I in my armor, turning about
|
And nailing her in the ruins of her pettiness.
|
|
Beneath a bare light bulb the plaster did pound
|
Her sister and I in a screaming battleground
|
And she in between, the victim of sound
|
Soon shattered as a child to the shadows.
|
|
All is gone, all is gone, admit it, take flight
|
I gagged in contradiction, tears blinding my sight
|
My mind it was mangled, I ran into the night
|
Leaving all of love's ashes behind me.
|
|
The wind knocks my window, the room it is wet
|
The words to say I'm sorry, I haven't found yet
|
I think of her often and hope whoever she's met
|
Will be fully aware of how precious she is.
|
|
Ah, my friends from the prison, they ask unto me
|
"How good, how good does it feel to be free "?
|
And I answer them most mysteriously
|
"Are birds free from the chains of the skyway"?
|
|
-----------------
|
Ballad In Plain D
|
Bob Dylan |