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  1. .
    1965 tarihli bringin' it all back home'dan bir bob dylan başyapıtı. bu uzun parçada, dylan hazretleri, i'm only bleeding sözünü hiç kullanmaz, ancak şarkının adında bu ifade vardır. dylan'ın protest döneminin belki de son demlerini yansıtır:

    But even the president of the United States
    Sometimes must have
    To stand naked.

    at budokan ve before the flood albümlerinde de dylan tarafından parçanın canlı versiyonlarının, coşkulu bir şekilde söylenmesine tanık oluruz. "life sometimes must get lonely, it's alright, ma, it's life and life only" diyor, money doesn't talk, it swears sözüne dikkat çekiyor ve lirikleri de itinayla yazıyoruz:

    Darkness at the break of noon
    Shadows even the silver spoon
    The handmade blade, the child's balloon
    Eclipses both the sun and moon
    To understand you know too soon
    There is no sense in trying.

    Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
    Suicide remarks are torn
    From the fool's gold mouthpiece
    The hollow horn plays wasted words
    Proves to warn
    That he not busy being born
    Is busy dying.

    Temptation's page flies out the door
    You follow, find yourself at war
    Watch waterfalls of pity roar
    You feel to moan but unlike before
    You discover
    That you'd just be
    One more person crying.

    So don't fear if you hear
    A foreign sound to your ear
    It's alright, Ma, I'm only sighing.

    As some warn victory, some downfall
    Private reasons great or small
    Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
    To make all that should be killed to crawl
    While others say don't hate nothing at all
    Except hatred.

    Disillusioned words like bullets bark
    As human gods aim for their mark
    Made everything from toy guns that spark
    To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
    It's easy to see without looking too far
    That not much
    Is really sacred.

    While preachers preach of evil fates
    Teachers teach that knowledge waits
    Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
    Goodness hides behind its gates
    But even the president of the United States
    Sometimes must have
    To stand naked.

    An' though the rules of the road have been lodged
    It's only people's games that you got to dodge
    And it's alright, Ma, I can make it.

    Advertising signs that con you
    Into thinking you're the one
    That can do what's never been done
    That can win what's never been won
    Meantime life outside goes on
    All around you.

    You lose yourself, you reappear
    You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
    Alone you stand with nobody near
    When a trembling distant voice, unclear
    Startles your sleeping ears to hear
    That somebody thinks
    They really found you.

    A question in your nerves is lit
    Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
    Insure you not to quit
    To keep it in your mind and not fergit
    That it is not he or she or them or it
    That you belong to.

    Although the masters make the rules
    For the wise men and the fools
    I got nothing, Ma, to live up to.

    For them that must obey authority
    That they do not respect in any degree
    Who despise their jobs, their destinies
    Speak jealously of them that are free
    Cultivate their flowers to be
    Nothing more than something
    They invest in.

    While some on principles baptized
    To strict party platform ties
    Social clubs in drag disguise
    Outsiders they can freely criticize
    Tell nothing except who to idolize
    And then say God bless him.

    While one who sings with his tongue on fire
    Gargles in the rat race choir
    Bent out of shape from society's pliers
    Cares not to come up any higher
    But rather get you down in the hole
    That he's in.

    But I mean no harm nor put fault
    On anyone that lives in a vault
    But it's alright, Ma, if I can't please him.

    Old lady judges watch people in pairs
    Limited in sex, they dare
    To push fake morals, insult and stare
    While money doesn't talk, it swears
    Obscenity, who really cares
    Propaganda, all is phony.

    While them that defend what they cannot see
    With a killer's pride, security
    It blows the minds most bitterly
    For them that think death's honesty
    Won't fall upon them naturally
    Life sometimes
    Must get lonely.

    My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards
    False gods, I scuff
    At pettiness which plays so rough
    Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
    Kick my legs to crash it off
    Say okay, I have had enough
    What else can you show me?

    And if my thought-dreams could be seen
    They'd probably put my head in a guillotine
    But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only.
    ... louis cyphre