"Jokerman" By Bob Dylan

I guess this is my favorite Bob Dylan recording. If I'm going to actually argue about it, and try to make the case that this year's Nobel Prize in Literature is no joke whatsoever, then this will be Exhibit A. (Don't worry, he's written lots of other great song lyrics too. I would have no problem getting to Exhibit Z before we even get to the album covers and oh yes the books too.) The video is pretty striking. If you don't like listening to Dylan -- some people don't -- you can turn the sound off, and you might still get a kick out of the video.

If the visuals don't do anything for you either, most of the song's lyrics appear on the screen in the video. All of those words were written by Bob Dylan, and Dylan's words seem to be what everybody's currently arguing about.

Honestly -- how is this anything but poetry of a very high order?

Standing on the waters casting your bread
While the eyes of the idol with the iron head are glowing
Distant ships sailing into the mist
You were born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowing
Freedom just around the corner for you
But with the truth so far off, what good will it do?

Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune
Bird fly high by the light of the moon
Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman

So swiftly the sun sets in the sky
You rise up and say goodbye to no one
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread
Both of their futures, so full of dread, you don’t show one
Shedding off one more layer of skin
Keeping one step ahead of the persecutor within

Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune
Bird fly high by the light of the moon
Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman

You’re a man of the mountains, you can walk on the clouds
Manipulator of crowds, you’re a dream twister
You’re going to Sodom and Gomorrah
But what do you care? Ain’t nobody there would want to marry your sister
Friend to the martyr, a friend to the woman of shame
You look into the fiery furnace, see the rich man without any name

Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune
Bird fly high by the light of the moon
Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman

Well, the Book of Leviticus and Deuteronomy
The law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers
In the smoke of the twilight on a milk-white steed
Michelangelo indeed could’ve carved out your features
Resting in the fields, far from the turbulent space
Half asleep near the stars with a small dog licking your face

Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune
Bird fly high by the light of the moon
Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman

Well, the rifleman’s stalking the sick and the lame
Preacherman seeks the same, who’ll get there first is uncertain
Nightsticks and water cannons, tear gas, padlocks
Molotov cocktails and rocks behind every curtain
False-hearted judges dying in the webs that they spin
Only a matter of time ’til night comes steppin’ in

Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune
Bird fly high by the light of the moon
Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman

It’s a shadowy world, skies are slippery grey
A woman just gave birth to a prince today and dressed him in scarlet
He’ll put the priest in his pocket, put the blade to the heat
Take the motherless children off the street
And place them at the feet of a harlot
Oh, Jokerman, you know what he wants
Oh, Jokerman, you don’t show any response

Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune
Bird fly high by the light of the moon
Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman

Well, if none of that does anything for you -- well. Sorry for wasting your time. To me, this is as good as it gets.

I've sort of surprised at how vehemently I've been defending the choice of Dylan for this year's Nobel Prize in Literature. Because I'd heard his name mentioned as a possible winner for years, and I thought -- meh. But yesterday, when he won, I started listening to things like this again, and -- yeah. Ai r uhgree. Dylan r grate pohett. Ai r uhgree with Noebell!