Part 1: Can Bob Be Saved?
by Larry Fyffe
Here’s an illustration of a Post-Modern ‘cut- up’ song that I created; as the ‘composer’ thereof, I get to make the final cut; Bob Dylan And Robert Hunter get co-credits; and so does whoever sets it to music:
The Door Song Open the door, Richard I've heard it said before I'll show you up to the door I've seen this movie before Now I'll cry tonight like I cried the night before And I'm 'leased on the highway, but I dream about the door You know I never seen him before You forgot to close the garage door Blowing like she never blowed before Blowing like she's at my chamber door From behind the curtain, he crossed the floor He moved his feet, and he bolted the door Lean up against your velvet door Who crawls across the your circus floor Your lover who just walked out the door Has taken all his blankets from the floor If not for you, babe, I couldn't find the door Couldn't even see the floor I could be learning, you could be yearning to see behind closed door But I'll always be emotionally yours Throw my troubles out the door I don't need them anymore The National Guard stands around his door I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more We can hear it from the door While the jury cried for more I can't shoot them anymore Feels like I'm knocking on Heaven's door The door has closed forevermore If indeed there ever was a door Someone to open each and every door It ain't me you're looking for, babe Was a friend to the poor He opened many a door Outside my cabin door Except the girl from the Red River shore I ran right through the front door But it was just a funeral parlor Smoke pouring out of a boxcar door In the final end he won the war
The song above makes sense with a little help from the readers thereof, does it not?
Footnote from Tony: I might be tempted to have a go at the music.
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