Tytuł: Ballad In Plain D

• Wykonawca: Bob Dylan
• Wyświetleń: 222

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"?