There is a house in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun, and it's been the ruin of many a poor boy… — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
Can't keep track of it no more, son's becoming husbands to their mothers, and old men turning your daughters into whores. — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
The hollow horn plays wasted words, proves to warn that he not busy being born is busy dying. — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
Just a reminder, if you tell anyone about what happened with Jonah last night, I'll destroy all of my writing and never play music… — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
Little red wagon, little red bike, I ain’t no monkey but I know what I like. — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
Twenty years of schooling and they put you on the day shift - look out out kid, they keep it all hid — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
The drunken politician leaps upon the street where mothers weep, and the saviors who are fast asleep, they wait for you. — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
I gotta friend who spends his life, stabbing my picture with a bowie knife. Dreams of strangling me with a scarf, when my name… — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
