Random Dylanesque writings
Hey there old boy
Can you see me at all
The wise mother maiden
had told me you've fall on
hardened times
of loathing and hate
I wish we could go back to that fateful date
Where the steel breeze stopped blowing
and your luck ran out
You say to yourself
It wasn't your fault
Leave me alone man
Don't speak of my my fall
It's my life to lead
It's always my call
I've heard it before
You don't know me at all
Isn't that unlucky boy
You might as well hide your head.
Isn't that unlucky boy
You just might as well be dead
