desolation_row.crd#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------##This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the ##song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. ##------------------------------------------------------------------------------##From: cctr128@cantua.canterbury.ac.nz (Mr K Osborn)

Desolation Rowwords and music by Bob Dylan

DThey're selling postcards of the hanging.

G DThey're painting the passports brown.

A7The beauty parlour's filled with sailors.

G DThe circus is in town.

Here comes the blind commissoner.

G DThey've got him in a trance.

A7One hand's tied to the tightrope walker.

G DThe other is in his pants.

GAnd the riot squad they're restless

DThey need some where to go.

D A7As lady and I look out tonight

G DOn Desolation Row.

Cinderella she seem so easy.It takes on to know one she smiles.Then puts her hand in her back pocket,Betty davis style.Then in comes Romeo he's moaning.You Belong to me I believe.And someone says your in the wrong place my friendYou better leave.And the only sound that's leftAfter the ambulances go.Is Cinderella sweeping upOn Desolation Row.

 

Now the moon is almost hiddenThe stars are beginning to hideThe fortune telling ladyHas already taken all her things inside.All except for Cane and AbleAnd the Hunch Back of Notre DameEveryone is making loveOr else expecting rainAnd the good samaritan he's dressingHe's gettin ready for the show.He's going to the carinvalTonight on Desolation Row.

Now Ophelia she's 'neath the window.For her I feel so afraid.On her twenty-second birthdayShe already is an old maid.To her death is quite romantic.She wears an iron vest.Her profession's her religion,Her sin is her lifelessness.And though her eyes are fixed uponNoah's great rainbowShe spends her time peekingInto Desolation Row.

Einstien disguised as Robin HoodWith his memories in a trunkPassed this way an hour agoWith his friend a jealous monk.He looked so frightfulAs he bummed a cigaretteThen went off sniffing drain pipesAnd reciting the alphabet.No you would not think to look at himThat he was famous long agoFor playing electric violinOn Desolation Row.

Doctor filth he keeps his wordInside a leather cupBut all his sexless patientsAre trying to blow it up.Now his nurse a local looserShe's in charge of the cyanaide holeAnd she also keeps the cards that readHave mercy on his soul.They all play on penny whistlesYou can hear them blowIf you lean your head out far enough>From Desolation Row

Across the street they've nailed the curtainsThey're gettin ready for the feastThe phantom of the operaA perfect image of a priestThey're spoon feedin CasonovaTo get him to feel more assuredThen they'll killed him with self confidence

 

After poisoning him with wordsAnd the phantom shouting to skinning girlsGet outta her don't you knowCasanova is just being punishedFor going to Desolation Row.

Now at midnight all the agentsAnd the superhuman crewsRound up everyoneThat knows more than they do.Then they bring them to the factoryWhere the heart attack machinesIs strapped across their shouldersAnd then the keroseneIs brought down from the castlesBy insurance men that goCheck to see that nobody is escapingTo Desolation Row

Praise be to Nero's NeptuneThe Titanic sails at dawnAnd everybody shoutingWhich side are you onAnd Ezra Pound and T.S. EliotFighting in the captains towerWhile calypso signers laugh at themAnd fishermen hold flowersBetween the windows of the seaWhere lovely mermaids flowAnd nobody has to think too muchAbout Desolation Row

Yes I received your letter yesterdayAbout the time the door knob broke.When you asked me how I wasWas that some kind of joke.All those people that you mentionYes I know them they're quite lame.I had to rearrange their facesAnd give them all another name.Right now I can't read too goodDon't send me no more letters no.Not unless you mail them fromDesolation Row.

Be seeing you,Kelwyn.

 _________ 

He said that's alright babe,I love you too.But we were Tangled Up In Blue.

- Bob Dylan

From: jim@truleigh.demon.co.uk (James Fryer)Subject: CRD: Dylan, Desolation Row

 

DThey're selling postcards of the hangingD G DThey're painting the passports brownD AThe beauty parlour's filled with sailorsG DThe circus is in townDHere comes the blind commissionerD G DThey got him in a tranceD AOne hand is tied to the tightrope walkerG DThe other is in his pantsD GAnd the riot squad they're restlessD GThey need somewhere to goD AAs lady and I look out tonightA G DOn desolation row

Use Dsus4 as appropriate.

Jim--James Fryer / jim@truleigh.demon.co.uk / jim@cix.compulink.co.uk"The cat is the only H-bomb to drop and this robustness must stop"-- Lord Invader