Just because you like my stuff doesn’t mean I owe you anything.
Johnny was and is the North Star. You could guide your ship by him.
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind, The answer is blowin’ in the wind
It was relatively simple. Bob put himself in my hands. He just turned up – just his words on paper – no instruments, no musicians, no preconceptions. He just turned up on the doorstep and I built the studio. It’s what I call a kitchen studio, so we played in the kitchen. I knew it...
Well, the future for me is already a thing of the past.
And it’s a hard, It’s a hard, It’s a hard, It’s a hard, It’s a hard rain gonna fall
Come writers and criticsWho prophesize with your penAnd keep your eyes wideThe chance won’t come againAnd don’t speak too soonFor the wheel’s still in spinAnd there’s no tellin’ whoThat it’s namin’For the loser nowWill be later to winFor the times they are a-changin’.
I have dined with kings, I’ve been offered wings. And I’ve never been too impressed.
You can always come back, but you can’t come back all the way.
For them that think death’s honesty won’t fall upon them naturally life sometimes must get lonely.
Some people have no hope, some people want to be like you, you know? Best to be yourself
When asked what his songs were about: Some are about 10 minutes long, others are about 5 or 6.
Twenty years of schoolin’ / And they put you on the day shift.
songs, to me, were more important than just light entertainment. They were my preceptor and guide into some altered consciousness of reality. Some different republic, some liberated republic… whatever the case, it wasn’t that I was anti-popular culture or anything and I had no ambition to stir things up. I just thought of mainstream culture...
It frightens me, the awful truth, of how sweet life can be…
I cannot rhyme or play guitar, piano and am not very much interested in doing any of these.
How many times can a man turn his head and pretend he just doesn’t see?
why be bothered with other people’s set-ups? it only leads to torture.
I had no songs in my repertoire for commercial radio anyway. Songs about debauched bootleggers, mothers that drowned their own children, Cadillacs that only got five miles to the gallon, floods, union hall fires, darkness and cadavers at the bottom of rivers weren’t for radiophiles. There was nothing easygoing about the folk songs I sang....
The dominant myth of the day seemed to be that anybody could do anything, even go to the moon. You could do whatever you wanted -in the ads and in the articles, ignore your limitations, defy them. If you were an indecisive person, you could become a leader and wear lederhosen. If you were a...
Ah, but I was so much older thenI’m younger than that now
Come senators, congressmenPlease heed the callDon’t stand in the doorwayDon’t block up the hallFor he that gets hurtWill be he who has stalledThere’s a battle outside ragin’.It’ll soon shake your windowsAnd rattle your wallsFor the times they are a-changin’.
Behind every beautiful thing, there’s some kind of pain.