Saturday, 23 April 2016

Ten Bob for Will

Well, I’m scuffling, and I’m shuffling
And I’m walking on briars
I’m not even acquainted
with my own desires

Now Ophelia, she’s ’neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid

Well, Shakespeare, he’s in the alley
With his pointed shoes and his bells
Speaking to some French girl
Who says she knows me well

Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
Time out o’ mind the fairies’ coachmakers.

I know that fortune is waiting to be kind
So give me your hand and say you’ll be mine

Othello told Desdemona, “I’m cold, cover me with a blanket,
By the way, what happened to that poisoned wine?”
She said, “I gave it to you, you drank it.”
Po’ boy, layin’ him straight,
Pickin’ up the cherries fallin’ off the plate.

By Jupiter, Were I the wearer of Antoniusbeard
I would not shave't to-day

Dragon clouds so high above
I’ve only known careless love

Now the fifth daughter on the twelfth night
Told the first father that things weren’t right

words by Bob Dylan, by way of William Shakespeare
pictures by Bob Dylan

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