Like Dylan Does (draft) (Patreon)

His heart can’t take the alcohol

His fingers squeeze the strings

He tries to sing like Dylan does

And tries to write the same

A living well from long ago

Has dried up to bottom

But now with all the little he knows

He’ll try as best he can to dig another

The cannonballs are flying still

The wind is still a-blowin’

And millions march against their will

Without a way of knowin’

When everything’s been said and done

What future will it bring?

When all the useless wars are won

Imagine all the songs machines will sing

A ripe old age of twenty-nine

As good a time as any

To live as if he’s bound to die

A fool among the many

What difference does a poem make?

He hardly has a clue

But write he does for writing’s sake

All throughout the night, so cold and blue