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Bob Dylan incanta ancora dalla quarantena con un altro inedito: "I contain multitudes" - Ascolta la canzone

18 aprile 2020, 11:01

Bob Dylan incanta ancora dalla quarantena con un altro inedito: "I contain multitudes" - Ascolta la canzone

Dopo tre settimane da "Murder most foul"  Bob Dylan esce con un'altra canzone, inedita,  "I contain multitudes" ispirata  dal poeta americano Walt Whitman (e Edgar Allan Poe), con riferimenti a Anna Frank e agli Stones. E poi  Warren Smith, William Blake e altri.

 

 

Ecco il testo:

Today, tomorrow, and yesterday, too
The flowers are dyin' like all things do
Follow me close, I’m going to Balian Bali
I'll lose my mind if you don't come with me
I fuss with my hair, and I fight blood feuds
I contain multitudes
 
Got a tell-tale heart, like Mr. Poe
Got skeletons in the walls of people you know
I’ll drink to the truth and the things we said
I'll drink to the man that shares your bed
I paint landscapes, and I paint nudes
I contain multitudes
 
Red Cadillac and a black mustache
Rings on my fingers that sparkle and flash
Tell me, what's next? What shall we do?
Half my soul, baby, belongs to you
I relic and I frolic with all the young dudes
I contain multitudes
 
I'm just like Anne Frank, like Indiana Jones
And them British bad boys, The Rolling Stones
I go right to the edge, I go right to the end
I go right where all things lost are made good again
I sing the songs of experience like William Blake
I have no apologies to make
Everything's flowing all at the same time
I live on the boulevard of crime
I drive fast cars, and I eat fast foods
I contain multitudes
 
Pink petal-pushers, red blue jeans
All the pretty maids, and all the old queens
All the old queens from all my past lives
I carry four pistols and two large knives
I'm a man of contradictions, I'm a man of many moods
I contain multitudes
 
You greedy old wolf, I'll show you my heart
But not all of it, only the hateful part
I’ll sell you down the river, I’ll put a price on your head
What more can I tell you? I sleep with life and death in the same bed
Get lost, madame, get up off my knee
Keep your mouth away from me
I'll keep the path open, the path in my mind
I’ll see to it that there's no love left behind
I'll play Beethoven's sonatas, and Chopin’s preludes
I contain multitudes

 

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