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Caribbean Wind

Album: Bob Dylan - A Collection Durasi: 5:51

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 theatre of divine comedy

Told her 'bout Jesus, told her 'bout the rain

She told me about the jungle where her brothers were slain

By the man who had been dying' then disappeared so mysteriously

Was she a child or an angel? Did we go too far?

Were we sniper bait? Did we follow a star

To a hole in the wall to where the long arm of the law cannot reach

Could I have been used and played as a pawn?

It certainly was possible as the gay night wore on

Where men bathed in perfume and practised the hopes of 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 dear to me nearer to the fire

Sea breeze blowing, there's a hellhound loose

Bringing men who have escaped from the noose

Patience, faith and salvation, waiting on the night to arrive

He was well-connected, but her heart was a snare

And she had left him to die in there

He was going down slow, just bet he's penalized

The cry of the peacock, flies buzzing my head

Ceiling fan broken, there's a heat in my bed

Street band playing, "Nearer, My God, To Thee"

We met at the station 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 on the furnace of desire

And them distant ships of liberty

On them iron waves, so bold and free

Bringing everything that's dear to me nearer to the fire

Atlantic City by the cold grey sea

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 an evil report

'Bout armies on the march and time that is short

And famines and earthquakes and train wrecks and the tearing down of the walls

Did you ever have a dream that you couldn't explain?

Ever meet your accusers face to face in the rain?

She had rum-brown eyes that I won't forget as long as she's gone

I see the screws breaking loose, see the Devil pounding on tin

I see a house in the country being torn apart from within

I can hear 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 dear to me nearer to the fire