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I N C O N V E R S A T I O N W I T H B O B D Y L A N
Well, if you're travelin' in the north country fair,
I’m not going that way, to be honest, Bob.
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline,
I know the place, Bob, I’m just not going that way.
Remember me to one who lives there.
I can’t. Seriously. It’s miles away from where I’m going.
She once was a true love of mine.
That’s nice, yeah.
Well, if you go when the snowflakes storm,
No, I really won’t be.
When the rivers freeze and summer ends,
I know what Winter is, Bob.
Please see if she's wearing a coat so warm,
I can tell you now that I won’t see if she is or isn’t. Because I’m not going.
To keep her from the howlin' winds.
You're not going down the Blowing in the wind road again, are you? Christ’s sakes.
Please see for me if her hair hangs long,
You’re not even listening, are you?
If it rolls and flows all down her breast.
Keep it in your pants.
Please see for me if her hair hangs long,
You’ve said that.
That's the way I remember her best.
The way you keep repeating it, I’m not surprised.
I'm a-wonderin' if she remembers me at all.
She’s probably done her best to forget you, you obsessive git.
Many times I've often prayed
Don’t bring religion into this, I’m still not going.
In the darkness of my night,
It’s as if I’m not even here.
In the brightness of my day.
Yeah yeah.
So if you're travelin' in the north country fair,
I’m not.
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline,
It’s not in my direction. AT ALL.
Remember me to one who lives there.
Not happening.
She once was a true love of mine.
Get bent, Bob.
December 2009
