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lirik lagu bob dylan - jokerman

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standing on the water, casting your bread
while the eyes of the idol with the iron head are glowing
distant ships sailing into the mist
you were born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowing
freedom just around the corner for you
but with truth so far off, what good will it do.

jokerman dance to the nightingale tune
bird fly high by the light of the moon
oh, oh, oh, jokerman.

so swiftly the sun sets in the sky
you rise up and say goodbye to no one
fools rush in where angels fear to tread
both of their futures, so full of dread, you don’t show one
shedding off one more layer of skin
keeping one step ahead of the persecutor within.

jokerman dance to the nightingale tune
bird fly high by the light of the moon
oh, oh, oh, jokerman.

you’re a man of the mountains, you can walk on the clouds
manipulator of crowds, you’re a dream twister
you’re going to sodom and gomorrah
but what do you care ? ain’t n-body there would want marry your sister
friend to the martyr, a friend to the woman of shame
you look into the fiery furnace, see the rich man without any name.

jokerman dance to the nightingale tune
bird fly high by the light of the moon
oh, oh, oh, jokerman.

well, the book of leviticus and deuteronomy
the law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers
in the smoke of the twilight on a milk-white steed
michelangelo indeed could’ve carved out your features
resting in the fields, far from the turbulent sp-ce
half asleep near the stars with a small dog licking your face.

jokerman dance to the nightingale tune
bird fly high by the light of the moon
oh, oh, oh, jokerman.

well, the rifleman’s stalking the sick and the lame
preacherman seeks the same, who’ll get there first is uncertain
nightsticks and water cannons, tear gas, padlocks
molotov c-cktails and rocks behind every curtain
false-hearted judges dying in the webs that they spin
only a matter of time ’til the night comes stepping in.

jokerman dance to the nightingale tune
bird fly high by the light of the moon
oh, oh, oh, jokerman.

it’s a shadowy world, skies are slippery gray
a woman just gave birth to a prince today and dressed him in scarlet
he’ll put the priest in his pocket, put the blade to the heat
take the motherless children off the street
and place them at the feet of a harlot
oh, jokerman, you know what he wants
oh, jokerman, you don’t show any response.

jokerman dance to the nightingale tune
bird fly high by the light of the moon
oh, oh, oh, jokerman.


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