We’re watching to see over the next ten years whether man will extinct himself, and in the near-term, whether Barack Obama will betray the last 80 years of Democratic New Deal social contract.
Nothing’s set in stone … yet … but maybe it’s time again for this. A brilliant live performance from 1964, the year the song was written. I originally had a version that showed the performance, but the property freaks took it down. Here’s the audio. It’s still lovely; enjoy.
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying
Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool’s gold mouthpiece the hollow horn
Plays wasted words, proves to warn
That he not busy being born
Is busy dying
Temptation’s page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover that you’d just be one more
So don’t fear if you hear
A foreign sound to your ear
It’s alright, Ma, I’m only sighing
Brilliant stuff; one of the top five Dylan songs. I’m totally jealous. Again, enjoy.
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