She speaks with a stutter and she and she walks with a hop. I don't know why I love her, but I… — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
Let me drink from the waters where the mountain streams flood Let the smell of wildflowers flow free through my blood Let… — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
How many roads must a man walk down Before your can call him a man? . . . The answer, my friend,… — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
How many roads must a developer walk down, before they accept the amenities package? — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
How many roads must a man walk down, Before you call him a man? How many seas must a white dove sail,… — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
Fame it's like... When you look through a window, say you pass a little pub, or an inn. You look through the… — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
You walk into the room like a camel and then put your eyes in your pockets and your nose on the ground. — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
Every step of the way we walk the line Your days are numbered, so are mine Time is pilin' up, we struggle… — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
Well the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount, But nothing really matters much it's doom alone that… — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
Well I'm living in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line. Beauty walks a razor's edge...someday I'll make it… — Bob Dylan Copy Share Image
Oh, the inmates and the prisoners I found they were my kind And it was there inside the bars I found my… — 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
