Dylan Video (MV)

I followed you like I was a troubadour's ghost
Drawn along by your music, poetry and prose
It was unclear like phrases that nobody knows
Hidden in the dark so it couldn't be exposed
Thoughts so fresh not to be dried out or froze
Like criminals led to some place nobody knows
Was it words or the music that danced in the air
Was it fact or fiction that made people care
Was it something had left that was never there
Exposed as the crowd stood cold, naked and bare
Their conscience was knowing but still unaware
Your words would become their eternal nightmare
Words tangled and twisted they danced to your tune
Words like ghosts beamed down from the moon
Just here for today but leaving the next afternoon
Fans waited and hoped they'd be coming back soon
Lifting their wondering minds like a hot air balloon
Drifting away searching to understand your croon
Thinking they knew you as they read all the news
Following your history based on unfounded clues
Knowing your youth was driven by singing the blues
With no understanding they felt somewhat abused
They trashed your electric music blinded by booze
Loving your words but hating the music you used
You sang to their hopes, you sang to their fears
All made them think though some brought tears
Songs never intended to separate them into tiers
Made clear if smoking weed and drinking beers
Put prejudice aside that they carried for years
Now believing the words heard through their ears
Words used made them think that you were saying
There's place for blame and that's where it's staying
So many brains were dying after wilting and fraying
Not understanding they stopped hoping and praying
Hoping for a shepherd to keep them from straying
Flashed by like graffiti on trains gangs were spraying
Breathing life into their minds was not your idea
You left your ghost behind so others could cheer
Following you to record the stages of your career
Leaving them to interpret your words with ears
Magazine writers wrote stories filled with fear
Not caring enough about the words they could hear
You played along with those hearing your songs
Providing answers to a world that went wrong
Never trying to fit in but knowing you belonged
Denied being a prophet as you were not that strong
Troubadour ghosts just believed and followed along
Hoping some day to catch the meaning of your songs