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I once loved a girl, her skin it was bronze.
With the innocence of a lamb, she was gentle like a fawn.
I courted her proudly but now she is gone,
Gone as the season she's taken.
Through young summer's breeze, I stole her away
From her mother and sister, though close did they stay.
Each one of them suffering from the failures of their day,
With strings of guilt they tried hard to guide us.
Of the two sisters, I loved the young.
With sensitive instincts, she was the creative one.
The constant scapegoat, she was easily undone
By the jealousy of others around her.
For her parasite sister, I had no respect,
Bound by her boredom, her pride to protect.
Countless visions of the other she'd reflect
As a crutch for her scenes and her society.
Myself, for what I did, I cannot be excused,
The changes I was going through can't even be used,
For the lies that I told her in hopes not to lose
The could-be dream-lover of my lifetime.
With unknown consciousness, I possessed in my grip
A magnificent mantelpiece, though its heart being chipped,
Noticing not that I'd already slipped
To a sin of love's false security.
From silhouetted anger to manufactured peace,
Answers of emptiness, voice vacancies,
Till the tombstones of damage read me no questions but, "Please,
What's wrong and what's exactly the matter?"
And so it did happen like it could have been foreseen,
The timeless explosion of fantasy's dream.
At the peak of the night, the king and the queen
Tumbled all down into pieces.
"The tragic figure!" her sister did shout,
"Leave her alone, God damn you, get out!"
And I in my armor, turning about
And nailing her to the ruins of her pettiness.
Beneath a bare light bulb the plaster did pound
Her sister and I in a screaming battleground.
And she in between, the victim of sound,
Soon shattered as a child 'neath her shadows.
All is gone, all is gone, admit it, take flight.
I gagged twice, doubled, tears blinding my sight.
My mind it was mangled, I ran into the night
Leaving all of love's ashes behind me.
The wind knocks my window, the room it is wet.
The words to say I'm sorry, I haven't found yet.
I think of her often and hope whoever she's met
Will be fully aware of how precious she is.
Ah, my friends from the prison, they ask unto me,
"How good, how good does it feel to be free?"
And I answer them most mysteriously,
"Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?"
Lyrics submitted by nitsirhc
Track duration: 08:17
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As mentioned by others, like Brian Cronin, this song is about Dylan, Suze, and older sister Carla. It's also about Suze's mother, a widow who disapproved of her daughter's relationship with Dylan. Undoubtedly, as a songwriter, Dylan couldn't help but write about his experiences and perhaps even use it as an emotional cartharsis. However, regardless of the poetry and musical ability used in this song, it is nevertheless a bitter, unfair and emotional backlash at vulnerable figures that Dylan clashed with. Even Dylan himself regretted releasing this song.
Suze was with Dylan from 1961 to 1964 and was only 17 when they first met. They fell in love and Suze eventually moved in with him. During this time Dylan's fame grew and his early songs used by protest groups were strongly influenced by Suze and her political views. Almost concurrently Dylan became highly involved with Joan Baez, from 1962 to 1965.
Suze lost her father when only 14 and so Suze's mother and older sister Carla, took on the paternal role in their Italian family. Naturally, they were were protective of Suze and often clashed with Dylan. Dylan resented the influence of Mrs. Rotolo and particularly Carla who probably took on more of the protective role. In 1963 Suze was pregnant to Dylan and had an abortion. Suze moved out of Dylan's home and lived with her older sister. That same year, Dylan wrote and released "Ballad in Plain D", specifically about this highly personal drama including descriptions of a bitter argument he had with Carla . In 1964, Dylan and Suze permanently parted and a few months later in January 1965, he recorded "It's all over now Baby Blue" which has also has hints of these events.
Suze and the Rotolo family have always been very tight lipped about the personal dramas that happened during these years but eventually put on an amicable front for the media. Though the events of those years must have had a tremendous impact on her family, Suze was always gracious in her publically expressed views of Dylan. In 2008 Suze published her memoirs of those years. She said she understood that Dylan had to write about his experiences in his songs, she never admitted that his words hurt her. They say "still waters run deep" and so it is here - I believe Suze truly loved Dylan the man, and what's more, respected his position as a prominent and influential singer/songwriter. But somehow, I don't think Carla and Mrs. Rotolo shared the same sentiments as Suze.
After her break up with Dylan, Susan Elizabeth Rotolo remarried, and had a son. She maintained her interests in art and beauty (worked as a jeweller). When she spoke of the sixties she once said "we had something to say, not something to sell". Suze passed away in early 2011, aged 67.
To be quite frank, I believe that Mrs. Rotolo's and Carla's fears for Suze were probably well founded. Bob Dylan probably had no long-term intention of supporting Suze. Suze left home and lived in a de-facto relationship with a womanising poet/musician to whom she was pregnant at 19 years of age. I'm sure there would be plenty of mothers and older sisters who when faced with this situation would similarly try to protect their loved one from all the potential hurts and danger this kind of situation holds. Dylan's response wasn't just to find material to write about, but to publically insult these women through the medium of his music. The lyrics in this song are clear in whom they target and their intent, for example the words "for her parasite sister, I had no respect" doesn't need any poetic interpretation.
The lyrics below pretty much sum up the song and the situation:
"Through young summer's breeze, I stole her away
From her mother and sister, though close did they stay.
Each one of them suffering from the failures of their day,
With strings of guilt they tried hard to guide us."
This CrabMcNasty guy is so typical of the cold narcissism that permeates all of (our) social institutions and I mean politics, religion, health care ... He might as well give himself a username "Let Me In Your Home And I Will Rape Your Youngest Child To Death" because he tells us, AT THE GATE, what to expect. He wasn't invited into this conversation but he managed toi stop by long enough to shit on it. And when I say, "Off with his head!" or "Impeach Him!" he believes I am the crazy one, the one who is dangerous. And unfortunately because those of his ilk are in power, and make the rules, and hold the keys to the jails, (because as LOVERS we weren't interested in superficial power) I have PERSONALLY WITNESSED the killing and the killing and the killing of my own loved one and when after that killing he wasn't dead enough they killed him even more ... they were still killing him two weeks after his final breath. They are still killing him after five years (my personal trauma involved a brain death declaration that was NOT made in accordance with professional and legal guidelines for the practice.)
Anyone who doesn't know that these assassinations are real is dangerous. Early in life I thought that danger would come from minds much brighter than mine. It was a great surprise to discover that the reality is quite the opposite.
Sure, Dylan sold out. Quite frankly all his born again stuff made me sick. But nowadeys, he's my FACEBOOK FRIEND! so life goes on .....
Thank you again, WilliamHDepperman
In Huxley' Brave New World the masses of society are imprisoned in a web of happiness. In this web they are unable to feel real pain. Pain is one of the emotions that makes man feel most alive. However even today much of society situates themselves in ways that help them avd pain- through the creation of routines and familiar scenarios. Routines and familiarity proved odious to Dylan as they would Kerouac or Guthrie. It is the life of wanderer that is marred with pain either physical or spiritual that also helps sustain him and validate him. Yet in one of the deepest pains of his life Dylan asked is it all worth it? Is it worth trying to live as a musician instead of a store clerk or electrician? Is it worth it moving to New York when I could go to trade school in Minnesota? Is it worth living life as I feel I am driven to by my inner nature when I could live life as much of society urges men to and seemingly trades them security and some happiness for their dreams? My friends in college and my friends with jobs and cars ask me how fun is it to move around with just your thumbs and a guitar, but I ask them, between my nature and the open road do I really have a choice?
it doesn't get much sadder than that.
Does anyone take "gagged twice, doubled" seriously?
"Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?"
Beneath a bare light bulb the plaster did pound
Her sister and I in a screaming battleground.
And she in between, the victim of sound,
Soon shattered as a child 'neath her shadows.
All is gone, all is gone, admit it, take flight.
I gagged twice, doubled, tears blinding my sight.
My mind it was mangled, I ran into the night
Leaving all of love's ashes behind me.
It is hear that, in the context of the song itself, he reveals his regret. You can see how he didn't want to fight with Carla, especailly at the risk of losing Suze.
This song is one of his most brutally honest, but that candid, spur of the moment aspect adds so much more weight.