Alternatives to College by Bob Dylan

Alternatives to College by Bob Dylan

Alternatives to College retreat by dawn but love this bed -- this cult -- this wolf & cell of smelling mouth -- tongue in hand & faint little lord, the bounty hunter playing flute & you, the younger, playing the tramp...one pale virgin with a plastic hammer FLASH & the cardboard bird & thousand teachers looking for Tibet & mathematics -- they, constipated, moving slowly, bulky across the constipation ... this virgin eats her hammer & holy mackerel she's a college girl -- the pokypine attacking Down with Breath & she's killed by a flying tooth -- bounty hunter now reincarnated into a fire hydrant -- he sleeps on your dog -- neath your window -- Phoenix rising -- he say, "God'll save the moon" & using this dawn for a blanket you part with sleep & accept this tomb -- this want of Recollection & reward & the star gazer making petty fun of the farmer, the angel, the generous cowboy & your father who is just another person... welcome this notorious moment wearing the robe & blindfold -- smile & let mad doctor sell his technicolor wigs to Maid Marian & you passing to dream with voices down the window but say farewell to health, fake laws, maturity & the visible imbecile becoming randolph ... enter with your sponge & friends & wave good-bye to gramma Lover, she moves like the seasons -- she doesn't fight the clock -- her strength is in her weakness & that is why she is my lover... Penrod Cain -- they offend themselves & take responsibility they have no right to take & leading others' lives, they lose their own & break their thumbs & dwell in madness & define this madness as success & they follow BLASPHEMY & touch of goodness exit -- cutting out the eyes of lambs & hanging in the evil hallway -- the dead shepherd in the closet ... the only floor, a floor of sound BLASPHEMY it leads them ... Lover, she knows better & doesn't fall for MATRON GIFTS disguised as book & proper hitchhiking with the as mask on & thumbing the queens, the paul reveres & meet Nick the Nail for he exists & he's real like Sing Sing & snowplows in the sewer ... Sunday comes & the old maid -- but are you joking -- she's just twenty-two & her name is Nancy or Peggy or Brunella & she squats in a cornfield & weaving brooms from roses, she reeks of heroes & paints her face the color of Custer's last massacre -- she peeks from tanks & repeats herself -- she stays away from the merry-go-round & you must love her too / she lives in armor & prejudice ... she is frightened of the clowns & may God have mercy on her soul -- may her pupils grow trees from their ears & shout about the eclipse, whimpers from the farm girls & the counter revolutionary crucifixion & damn the saints & make a profit the vandal from his gamut & baby cupid, the roustabout forcing you to store away velvet bonnet of barbarian funnel & drinking & drinking until pay day & graduation & Sunday coming & going just like Monday & some other people ... throbbing & to the pendulum strapped 'til Christmas may these teachers of the shade be rot for committing the problems of past & future & omitting the weather, the drunken eagle & the holy present ... Sunday being prisoner of the castle sleeping on & Nancy or Peggy or Brunella -- she turning into twenty-three & you concluding that even gas masks can be worn in freedom, but who are you really talking & thinking about when you discuss your destiny? your problem? your freedom? ... Sphinx & the tango partner, her professor busy writing a book about the bums, sit like wallflowers & you being taught by Felix the Cat & how dare you have the nerve to pass! how dare you search for pain! for self pity! for decisions! Aunt Fang from the witch-hunt, her left jab weakened -- the flame in her arm & poor potbrain Shakespeare, a wire for his halo ... hand in hand, they whisper of cannibals & the poet & I WISH I WAS JAYNE MANSFIELD/STANDING ON THE MOON / I'D ORDER ME A LEPRECHAUN / & SHOOT YOU WITH MY SPOON / while White Stoveman with earrings that jingle from his toes & who sings of Hiroshima & Tokyo & Hollywood happenings pulls out his leaflets, his plum & I WISH I WAS A DIPLOMAT / NOT A DOORMAT OR A MOVIE / I'D BURN MY OFFICE OFF THE EARTH / & MAKE THE WORLD MORE GROOVY / & ho ho ho amazing & get two corsets free with each butter sandwich & Plato with his flask of verbs building his buildings on ground where there is no ground at all & his mother in the tower wringing her head & moaning & oh great screech of help! & crippled mermaid singing & listen that's her singing now & she meows too ... (1) get yourself a harness. be avant garde. eat lots of mushrooms & end up as a country music expert (2) get yourself a torn calendar, some leftover birthday cake. buy a flagpole & you will indeed wind up as a good librarian (3) steal a pink rake. carry a burnt balloon. wash your neck with egg yolk & if you don't find yourself a successful plantation owner within a matter of time, then something is wrong ... on & on & on sweet mermaid she sings of ideals, different formulas & wild cookbooks / dark Scary, the weeper at the drop of anybody's hat but his, sentimental -- sentimental like the shock patient who recalls his refrigerator with a slight tear & Right Lie, himself being whipped to death by a pigtail -- both of them right now being pasteurized in a quart of milk & Gimmick hailing the armies of intelligence, Jerry Lewis & used french fries ... all right then, if you must go, go with the jack of spades, the honky tonk lady & take care of the woman at the well -- for kicks, see with your third eye & dream of being mr. deserted fox but dont depend on him. dont use him. dont count on him yonder at your funeral, you will see this pauper -- dressed like your face, he will have a wedding present for you -- it will be a mirror & in it, you will see the world as it sees you ... behind this mirror there will be a common worker looking like Little Lulu. he'll be teaching a boy scout the Ten Commandments & if you run from the mirror, they will both seize you & take you with them to the desert. they will stick a fishing pole in your hand & immediately tell you of backaches, Buicks, senate seats & ant poison -- forks & knives -- Stork, the magic gladiator will appear from a trunk locker & say he brought you here & now he wants to collect & you saying "no no i'm a student! i'm a student of life!" & him saying "i'll give you a student of life! yuh just better pay up yuh dig, i'm the stork, yuh dig?" SHAZAAAAM & the might mirror cracking & you seeing yourself oh you can't believe it & you're vanishing -- the boy scout saying "fish! fish!" & you saying "help me, common worker!" & the common worker saying "call me C. W. yuh dig?" & you saying "owee strange & tell me what's happening!" -- Bull Flipt, the way out method actor who sleeps in peanuts to get the feel of being a hog & Sabu Jones coming out of the subway & he say "now what's so important about being a hog & gimme some of those peanuts -- I gotta go hunt me some tiger today Baby!" & the geese charging -- thinking they're scarecrows & you seeking goats in the midst of novelists who eat shot glasses -- write books about other people's masters -- each one in a mustache & wishing he was Frank Buck & you getting rather salty & everything begins & is forming into one Great big strangle-shape & the corpse, the voice -- the struggle & you saying "is it true that children who die at birth really have committed suicide?" but there's nobody to ask ... forget these delusions find your opposite -- be like Jonah -- go deep & there will be no pauper at your ceremony ... be him civilian -- disciple or bellydancer ... long live catastrophy Josie & the hermit, King of the Blues -- ragged at the motel -- a wheel being invented in the barn & here come the innkeeper with bars from the window ... Lady Chance & Superstition, the cleaning woman -- she holler fresh quarters f' sale & Ritz Deaf paying all he has to get into this dungeon & he cant even hear ... blank stares, caves & the in-crowd grinning & banners with little bo peep -- simple simon & her come Standing Room Only ... he's wearing a sucker & conning for better or worse -- he's blowing the toot toot -- Gigantic Push & the gingerbread sergeant growls & dies & the low rank gobble up the pieces & then they die from poison groin -- malnutrition & thinking they're too smart & you with the dice & forever uniform ... receiving some degree & while giving it to your wall, somebody steals your enemy -- your pride -- your existence -- your chum, Slop, leaving you to the dogs & defenders of mankind -- ghost of Einstein like the raven & Miss Prune the Terror., trying to convince you that there was no edgar allan poe & then you straightening the tie that either Eileen or Punk Roger gave you for pennies on the brain & saying "take me to your leader for change! i'm sick of these vincent price people!" ... Homer on the gallows -- his feet swollen & you wondering why there is no eternity & that you make your own eternity & why there is no music & that you make your own music & why there are no alternatives & that you make your own alternatives

Bob Dylan

Copyright © 1985 Special Rider Music

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