|
|
|
- 390,531 lyrics
- 24,313 artists
|
|
|
Lyrics for Caribbean Wind by Bob Dylan:
| | | Artist: | Bob Dylan |
| | Album: | Miscellaneous | | Track: | Caribbean Wind | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 182 | | | | Lyrics: | by Bob Dylan
She was the rose of Sharon from paradise lost
From the city of seven
hills near the place of the cross.
I was playing a show in Miami in the theater of divine
comedy.
Told about Jesus, told about the rain,
She told me about the jungle where her
brothers were slain
By a man who danced on the roof of the embassy.
Was she a child
or a woman, I can't say which
From one to another she could to easily switch
We went into
the wall to where the long arm of the law could not reach.
Could I been used and played as a
pawn?
It certainly was possible as the gay night wore on
Where men bathed in perfume and
celebrated free speech.
And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to
Mexico
Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on
them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the
fire.
She looked into my soul through the clothes that I wore
She said, "We got a
mutual friend over by the door,
And you know he's got our best interest in mind."
He was
well connected but her heart was a snare
And she had left him to die in there,
There were
payments due and he was a little behind.
The cry of the peacock, flies buzz my
head,
Ceiling fan broken, there's a heat in my bed,
Street band playing "Nearer My God to
Thee."
We met at the steeple where the mission bells ring,
She said, "I know what you're
thinking, but there ain't a thing
You can do about it, so let us just agree to
agree."
And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the flames
in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and
free,
Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.
Atlantic City by the
cold grey sea
I hear a voice crying, "Daddy," I always think it's for me,
But it's only
the silence in the buttermilk hills that call.
Every new messenger brings evil
report
'Bout armies on the march and time that is short
And famines and earthquakes and
hatred written upon walls.
Would I have married her? I don't know, I suppose.
She
had bells in her braids and they hung to her toes
But I kept hearing my name and I had to be
movin' on.
I saw screws break loose, saw the devil pound tin,
I saw a house in the country
being torn from within.
I heard my ancestors calling from the land far beyond.
And
them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the flames in the furnace of
desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing
everything that's near to me nearer to the fire | | | |  Reddit | X / Twitter | Facebook | Copy link |
|
More Bob Dylan Lyrics:
|
|
|
