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Versurile Bob Dylan - Visions of johanna
Versuri Visions of johanna
Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when
you're tryin' to be so quiet?
We sit here stranded, though we're all doin' our
best to deny it
And Louise holds a handful of rain, temptin' you
to defy it
Lights flicker from the opposite loft
In this room the heat pipes just cough
The country music station plays soft
But there's nothing, really nothing to turn off
Just Louise and her lover so entwined
And these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind
In the empty lot where the ladies play blindman's
bluff with the key chain
And the all-night girls they whisper of escapades
out on the D train
We can hear the night watchman click his
flashlight
Ask himself if it's him or them that's really
insane
Louise, she's all right, she's just near
She's delicate and seems like the mirror
But she just makes it all too concise and too
clear
That Johanna's not here
The ghost of 'lectricity howls in the bones of
her face
Where these visions of Johanna have now taken my
place
Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so
seriously
He brags of his misery, he likes to live
dangerously
And when bringing her name up
He speaks of a farewell kiss to me
He's sure got a lotta gall to be so useless and
all
Muttering small talk at the wall while I'm in the
hall
How can I explain?
Oh, it's so hard to get on
And these visions of Johanna, they kept me up
past the dawn
Inside the museums, Infinity goes up on trial
Voices echo this is what salvation must be like
after a while
But Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues
You can tell by the way she smiles
See the primitive wallflower freeze
When the jelly-faced women all sneeze
Hear the one with the mustache say, Jeeze
I can't find my knees
Oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of
the mule
But these visions of Johanna, they make it all
seem so cruel
The peddler now speaks to the countess who's
pretending to care for him
Sayin', Name me someone that's not a parasite and
I'll go out and say a prayer for him
But like Louise always says
Ya can't look at much, can ya man?
As she, herself, prepares for him
And Madonna, she still has not showed
We see this empty cage now corrode
Where her cape of the stage once had flowed
The fiddler, he now steps to the road
He writes ev'rything's been returned which was
owed
On the back of the fish truck that loads
While my conscience explodes
The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the
rain
And these visions of Johanna are now all that
remain
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