Last Friday, with a TWENTY FIVE EURO voucher for Golden Discs on offer, we asked you to complete this sentence:
“To my mind, the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be…”
You responded in your dozens.
But there can only be one winner.
ItWasChaosBilly clinched it.
To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be from To Ramona, a song to console even the heaviest of hearts:
“The flowers of the city
Though breathlike, get deathlike at times
And there’s no use in tryin’
To deal with the dyin’
Though I cannot explain that in lines.”
Penfold: “To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be (and maybe Trump can break it out!): “Someone’s got it in for me, they’re planting stories in the press/Whoever it is I wish they’d cut it out quick but when they will I can only guess”. From Idiot Wind.”
Mr. P: “One that always stuck with me is the brilliantly simple, yet deeply cutting message to someone who turned on him when he left the trad folk music scene. Positively 4th Street, 1965. “I wish that for just one time, you could stand inside my shoes, you’d know then what a drag it is to see you.”
DSpot: ‘To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be: ‘Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you and then he kneels/He crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels/And without further notice, he asks you how it feels/And he says, “Here is your throat back, thanks for the loan’ (Ballad Of A Thin Man) Some boy altogether.”
realPolithicks: To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be: “Ah, but I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now” (My Back Pages)
Cheech: “To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be *inaudible mumbling*”.
Last week: Johnny’s In The Basement