- Bob Dylan
I hate myself for lovin'
you an' the weakness that it showed
You were just a painted face on a trip down suicide road
The stage was set, the lights went out all around that old hotel
I hate myself for lovin' you an' i'm glad the curtain fell.
I hate that foolish game we played an' the need that was expressed
An' the mercy that you showed to me whoever would have guessed
I went out on lower broadway an' i felt that place within
That hollow place where martyrs weep an' angels play with sin.
Heard your songs of freedom an' man forever stripped
Actin' out his folly while his back is bein' whipped
Like a slave in orbit he's beaten 'til he's tamed
All for a moment's glory an' it's a dirty rotten game.
There are those who worship loneliness, i'm not one of them
In this age of fiber glass i'm searchin' for a gem
The crystal ball upon the wall hasn't shown me nothin' yet
I've paid the price of solitude but at least i'm out of debt.
Can't recall a useful thing you ever did for me
'cept pat me on the back one time when i was on my knees
We stared into each other's eyes 'til one of us would break
No use to apologize, what difference would it make ?
So sing your praise of progress and of the doom machine
The naked truth is still taboo whenever it can be seen
Lady luck who shines on me will tell you where i'm at
I hate myself for lovin' you but i should get over that.