bugün
- sadece 4000 kişi kalmış olması9
- masklavinin akepeyi hiç eleştirmemesi23
- yeni parti'nin kürtçü olması14
- masklavinin siyaseti bırakırsa düzeleceği kanısı8
- oy verdiğim partiyi niye eleştireyim14
- özgür özel10
- arkadaşlar kavga etmeyin8
- aşırı milliyetçilerin herkesi kürtçü ilan etmesi7
- ne yapıyorsunuz arkadaşlar5
- allah yoksa insanı iyi olmaya zorlayan nedir9
- miçotakis ten türkiye'ye iyi geçinme çağrısı5
- s'i l v'e r m'i s t29
- mazotun litresi 90 lira13
- gün tabağı diye rulolat veren sözlük kızı9
- 100 bin liraya mezarlık gece bekçisi olmak9
- birader terör örgütü4
- parti tüzüğü okumak8
- niğde de restorana girip dayak yemek10
- salata ile başlanan gün2
- otuzlarında ilk milyon dolarını kazanamamış olmak5
- berhan şimşek'in kadına şiddet faili olması9
- yeni parti tüzüğü5
- üsküdar belediyesi9
- mülteciler akp yüzünden türkiye de zannetmek2
- algı çetesi3
- masklavi'nin türkçe öğretmenine selam göndermek4
- sözlüğün işgal altında olması2
- kadın ve erkek yazarın kavga etmesi2
- mel mel bakan adama gülümsemek3
- şizofrenik hikayeler5
- dünya'nın başka yerinde hayat nasıl düşüncesi2
- türkiye iran savaşı7
- eylülde tatil yapmak7
- psikopat duygusuz birader yazarlar2
- kahve yemek4
- sarı torba11
- gammaz çetesi11
- yalancı su böreği10
- herkese terörist diyip sonradan 180 derece dönmek4
- rafael leao victor osimhen leroy sane12
- ecevit ekonomisi4
- kemaliklerle ekonomi tartışmak4
- kürtlerin işlerinde hep bi dalavere olmasi2
- ahmet davutoğlu4
- mutlu bey birader koştursun ama düşmesin3
- tanımadığınız birinin sorunlarını önemser misiniz14
- edip akbayram2
- edip akbayram caddesi2
- eğitimde fırsat eşitliği3
- kargalar4
bob dylan hazretlerinin highway 61 revisited albümünün kapanış parçası. şarkı, göndermelerden geçilmez. 11 küsür dakikada dylan; bette davis'ten cindirella'ya, romeo'dan* notre damme'ın kamburuna, ophelia'dan einstein'a, robin hood'dan casanova'ya, operadaki hayaletten* t. s. eliot'a, ezra pound'a herkesleri ve satır aralarındaki göndermelerinde daha nicelerini desolation row'da sıraya sokar.
bu şarkının, dylan'ın 1966'da royal albert hall'de verdiği meşhur konserde* de muazzam bir yorumu vardır.
They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row
Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
"You Belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says," You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row
Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row
Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row
Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row
Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on His Soul"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row
Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
A perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get Outa Here If You Don't Know
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row"
Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row
Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting
"Which Side Are You On?"*
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row
Yes, I received your letter yesterday
(About the time the door knob broke)
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row
bu şarkının, dylan'ın 1966'da royal albert hall'de verdiği meşhur konserde* de muazzam bir yorumu vardır.
They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row
Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
"You Belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says," You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row
Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row
Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row
Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row
Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on His Soul"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row
Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
A perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get Outa Here If You Don't Know
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row"
Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row
Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting
"Which Side Are You On?"*
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row
Yes, I received your letter yesterday
(About the time the door knob broke)
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row
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