Bob Dylan is sitting somewhere in manhattan with his guitar. Its 1962. His friends have herd him play before but only other peoples songs. Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger, get him a little drunk and you drag an Elvis tune out of him. So for the first time he plays an original composition, lets say Its Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding), but he really could have played them anything. They tell him 10 things
- It makes no sense
- I barely has a tune
- You sound like you swallowed a toad
- Its melodramatic and cheesy
- Its a real downer
- Its gos on for ages
- Its a strange bastard child of rock and folk
- It doesn't rhyme
- Stick to your woody guthrie
- Your names bobby zimmerman
Don't give up
the world is collapsing around our ears
2 comments:
Still, you batter me for all the traits of Bob Dylan that you stated
wtf? I've never battered you for any of these. Hell, I've hardly ever riped on your music at all. Why do you keep trying to discredit me in your comments?
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