The Gates of Eden  - Bob Dylan
    Of war and peace the truth just twists, its curfew gull it glides

    Upon 4-legged forest clouds the cowboy angel rides
    With his candle lit into the sun, though its glow is waxed in black
    All except when 'neath the trees of Eden

    The lampost stands with folded arms, its iron claws attached
    To curbs 'neath holes where babies wail though it shadows metal badge
    All in all can only fall with a crashing but meaningless blow
    No sound ever comes from the gates of Eden

    This savage soldier sticks his head in sand and then complains
    Unto the shoeless hunter who's gone deaf but still remains
    Upon the beach where hounddogs bay at ships with tattooed sails
    Heading for the gates of Eden

    With a time-rusted compass blade, Aladdin and his Lamp
    Sits with utopian hermit monks, side-saddle on the Golden Calf
    And on their promises of paradise you will not hear a laugh
    All except inside the gates of Eden

    Relationships of ownership they whisper in the wings
    To those condemned to act accordingly and wait for succeeding kings
    And I try to harmonize with songs the lonesome sparrow sings
    There are no kings inside the gates of Eden

    The motorcycle black madonna two-wheeled gypsy queen
    And her silver studded phantom cause the grey-flanneled dwarf to scream
    As he weeps to wicked birds of prey who pick up on his breadcrumbs sins
    And there are no sins inside the gates of Eden

    The kingdoms of experience in the precious winds they rot
    While paupers change possessions each one wishing for what the other has got
    And the princess and the prince discuss what's real and what is not
    It doesnt matter inside the gates of Eden

    The foreign sun it squints upon a bed that is never mine
    As friends and other strangers from their fates try to resign
    Leaving men wholly totally free to do anything they wish to do but die
    And there are no trials inside the gates of Eden

    At dawn my lover comes to me and tells me of her dreams
    With no attempts to shovel the glimpse into the ditch of what each one means
    At times I think there are no words but these to tell what's true
    And there are no truths outside the gates of Eden


    Marco Giunco
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