Bob Dylan(born on May 24, 1941) is an American singer-songwriter, musician and poet, whose place in American and European culture in the 19 60sthrough to the present is unique. Much of Dylan's best known work is from the 1960s, when he became an informal documentarian and reluctant figurehead of American unrest. Some of his songs, such as "Blowin' in the Wind" and "The Times They Are A-Changin'", became anthems of the anti-war and civil rights movements. He remains an influential and popular artist; his most recent album of new songs, 2006's Modern Times, reached #1 on the charts in the US and #3 in Britain. Dylan's early lyrics incorporated politics, social commentary, philosophy and literary influences, defying existing popmusic conventions and appealing widely to the counterculture of the time.
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Caribbean Wind Lyrics
Bob Dylan
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 theater of divine comedy.
Told about jesus, told about the rain,
She told me about the jungle where her brothers were slain
By a man who danced on the roof of the embassy.
Was she a child or a woman, I cant say which
From one to another she could to easily switch
We went into the wall to where the long arm of the law could not reach.
Could I been used and played as a pawn?
It certainly was possible as the gay night wore on
Where men bathed in perfume and celebrated 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 thats near to me nearer to the fire.
She looked into my soul through the clothes that I wore
She said, we got a mutual friend over by the door,
And you know hes got our best interest in mind.
He was well connected but her heart was a snare
And she had left him to die in there,
There were payments due and he was a little behind.
The cry of the peacock, flies buzz my head,
Ceiling fan broken, theres a heat in my bed,
Street band playing nearer my God to thee.
We met at the steeple where the mission bells ring,
She said, I know what youre thinking, but there aint 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 in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything thats near to me nearer to the fire.
Atlantic city by the cold grey sea
I hear a voice crying, daddy, I always think its for me,
But its only the silence in the buttermilk hills that call.
Every new messenger brings evil report
bout armies on the march and time that is short
And famines and earthquakes and hatred written upon walls.
Would I have married her? I dont know, I suppose.
She had bells in her braids and they hung to her toes
But I kept hearing my name and I had to be movin on.
I saw screws break loose, saw the devil pound tin,
I saw a house in the country being torn from within.
I heard 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 thats near to me nearer to the fire.