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Visions of Johanna by Bob Dylan.Visions of Johanna by Bob Dylan
Visions of Johanna by Bob Dylan.
Ain't it just like the night to play tricks When you're tryin' to be so quiet We sit here stranded, though we're all doin' our best to deny it And Louise holds a handful of rain, temptin' you to defy it Lights flicker from the opposite loft In this room the heat pipes just cough The country music station plays soft But there's nothing, really nothing to turn off Just Louise and her lover so entwined And these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind In the empty lot where the ladies play blindman's bluff with the key chain And the all-night girls they whisper of escapades out on the "D" train We can hear the night watchman click his flashlight Ask himself if it's him or them that's insane Louise, she's all right, she's just near She's delicate and seems like the mirror But she just makes it all too concise and too clear That Johanna's not here The ghost of 'lectricity howls in the bones of her face Where these visions of Johanna have now taken my place Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously And when bringing her name up He speaks of a farewell kiss to me He's sure got a lotta gall to be so useless and all Muttering small talk at the wall while I'm in the hall How can I explain It's so hard to get on And these visions of Johanna, they kept me up past the dawn Inside the museums, infinity goes up on trial Voices echo this is what salvation must be like after a while But Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues You can tell by the way she smiles See the primitive wallflower freeze When the jelly-faced women all sneeze Hear the one with the mustache say, "Jeez, I can't find my knees" Oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule But these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel The peddler now speaks to the countess who's pretending to care for him Sayin', name me someone that's not a parasite and I'll go out and say a prayer for him But like Louise always says You can't look at much, can ya man As she, herself, prepares for him And Madonna, she still has not showed We see this empty cage now corrode Where her cape of the stage once had flowed The fiddler, he now steps to the road He writes everything's been returned which was owed On the back of the fish truck that loads While my conscience explodes The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain And these visions of Johanna are now all that remain
Thoughts of Johanna fill my mind.
Isn't it just like the night to play tricks? When you're trying to be so quiet. We're stuck here, but we all pretend it's not true. And Louise has a handful of rain, tempting you to resist it. Lights blink from the loft across the way. In this room, the heating pipes make a coughing sound. The country music station plays softly. But there's really nothing to turn off. It's just Louise and her lover wrapped up together. And these thoughts of Johanna overwhelm my mind. In the vacant lot where the women play a blindfold game with a keychain. And the girls who stay up all night whisper about adventures on the 'D' train. We can hear the night watchman click his flashlight. He wonders if it's him or them who are crazy. Louise is okay; she's just nearby. She's fragile and reflects like a mirror. But she makes everything too brief and too clear. That Johanna isn't here. The spirit of electricity howls in her facial features. Where these thoughts of Johanna have now taken my place. Now, the lost little boy takes himself far too seriously. He boasts about his sadness; he enjoys living on the edge. And when he mentions her name, He talks about a goodbye kiss to me. He certainly has the nerve to be so ineffective. Muttering small talk at the wall while I'm in the hallway. How can I put this into words? It's so difficult to move forward. And these thoughts of Johanna kept me awake until dawn. Inside the museums, infinity is put on trial. Voices echo; this must be what salvation feels like after some time. But Mona Lisa must have felt the weight of the world. You can see it in the way she smiles. Watch the shy wallflower freeze. When the soft-faced women all sneeze. Listen to the one with the mustache say, 'Wow, I can't find my knees.' Oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the mule's head. But these thoughts of Johanna make everything feel so harsh. The peddler now talks to the countess who pretends to care for him. Saying, name me someone who's not a freeloader, and I'll pray for him. But as Louise always says, You can't see much, can you, man? As she prepares herself for him. Madonna has yet to make her appearance. We notice this vacant cage starting to decay. Where her flowing cloak used to grace the stage. The musician now walks out onto the street. He notes that all debts have been settled and returned. At the rear of the truck filled with fish. As my moral awareness suddenly erupts. The harmonicas play along with the rain and the keys. And now only the memories of Johanna are left.