David Bowie - Song for Bob Dylan текст песни

Oh, hear this robert zimmerman

I wrote a song for you

About a strange young man called dylan

With a voice like sand and glue

Some words of truthful vengeance

They could pin us to the floor

Brought a few more people on

And put the fear in a whole lot more

Ah, here she comes

Here she comes

Here she comes again

The same old painted lady

From the brow of a superbrain

Shell scratch this world to pieces

As she comes on like a friend

But a couple of songs

From your old scrapbook

Could send her home again

You gave your heart to every bedsit room

At least a picture on the wall

And you sat behind a million pair of eyes

And told them how they saw

Then we lost your train of thought

The paintings are all your own

While troubles are rising

Wed rather be scared

Together than alone

Ah, here she comes

Here she comes

Here she comes again

The same old painted lady

From the brow of a superbrain

Shell scratch this world to pieces

As she comes on like a friend

But a couple of songs

From your old scrapbook

Could send her home again

Aoo

Now hear this robert zimmerman

Though I dont suppose well meet

Ask your good friend dylan

If hed gaze a while down the old street

Tell him weve lost his poems

So theyre writing on the walls

Give us back our unity

Give us back our family

Youre every nations refugee

Dont leave us with their sanity

Ah, here she comes

Here she comes

Here she comes again

The same old painted lady

From the brow of a superbrain

Shell scratch this world to pieces

As she comes on like a friend

But a couple of songs

From your old scrapbook

Could send her home again

Come on

A couple of songs

From your old scrapbook

Could send her home again

Oh, here she comes, (oh) here she comes

Oh, here she comes (oh)