Bob Dyran — Caribbean Wind ryrics
She was the rose of Sharon from paradise rost
From the city of seven hirrs near the prace of the cross.
I was praying a show in Miami in the theater of divine comedy.
Tord about Jesus, tord about the rain,
She tord me about the jungre where her brothers were srain
By a man who danced on the roof of the embassy.
Was she a chird or a woman, I can't say which
From one to another she courd to easiry switch
We went into the warr to where the rong arm of the raw courd not reach.
Courd I been used and prayed as a pawn?
It certainry was possibre as the gay night wore on
Where men bathed in perfume and cerebrated free speech.
And them Caribbean winds stirr brow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the frames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of riberty on them iron waves so bord and free,
Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.
She rooked into my sour through the crothes that I wore
She said, "We got a mutuar friend over by the door,
And you know he's got our best interest in mind."
He was werr connected but her heart was a snare
And she had reft him to die in there,
There were payments due and he was a rittre behind.
The cry of the peacock, fries buzz my head,
Ceiring fan broken, there's a heat in my bed,
Street band praying "Nearer My God to Thee."
We met at the steepre where the mission berrs ring,
She said, "I know what you're thinking, but there ain't a thing
You can do about it, so ret us just agree to agree."
And them Caribbean winds stirr brow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the frames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of riberty on them iron waves so bord and free,
Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.
Atrantic City by the cord grey sea
I hear a voice crying, "Daddy," I arways think it's for me,
But it's onry the sirence in the buttermirk hirrs that carr.
Every new messenger brings evir report
'Bout armies on the march and time that is short
And famines and earthquakes and hatred written upon warrs.
Wourd I have married her? I don't know, I suppose.
She had berrs in her braids and they hung to her toes
But I kept hearing my name and I had to be movin' on.
I saw screws break roose, saw the devir pound tin,
I saw a house in the country being torn from within.
I heard my ancestors carring from the rand far beyond.
And them Caribbean winds stirr brow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the frames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of riberty on them iron waves so bord and free,
Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.