" Once upon a time you dressed so fine Threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you? People call say 'beware doll, you're bound to fall' You thought they were all kidding you You used to laugh about Everybody that was hanging out Now you don't talk so loud Now you don't seem so proud About having to be scrounging your next meal How does it feel, how does it feel? To be without a home Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone Ahh you've gone to the finest schools, alright Miss Lonely But you know you only used to get juiced in it Nobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street And now you're gonna have to get used to it You say you never compromise With the mystery tramp, but now you realize He's not selling any alibis As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes And say do you want to make a deal? How does it feel, how does it feel? To be on your own, with no direction home A complete unknown, like a rolling stone Ah you never turned around to see the frowns On the jugglers and the clowns when they all did tricks for you You never understood that it ain't no good You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you You used to ride on a chrome horse with your diplomat Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat Ain't it hard when you discovered that He really wasn't where it's at After he took from you everything he could steal How does it feel, how does it feel? To have on your own, with no direction home Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone Ahh princess on a steeple and all the pretty people They're all drinking, thinking that they've got it made Exchanging all precious gifts But you better take your diamond ring, you better pawn it babe You used to be so amused At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used Go to him he calls you, you can't refuse When you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose You're invisible now, you've got no secrets to conceal How does it feel, ah how does it feel? To be on your own, with no direction home Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone"

(like a rolling stone)


"The Season of Phantasmal Peace" | ( " Then all the nations of birds lifted together the huge net of the shadows of this earth in multitudinous dialects, twittering tongues, stitching and crossing it. They lifted up the shadows of long pines down trackless slopes, the shadows of glass-faced towers down evening streets, the shadow of a frail plant on a city sill— the net rising soundless as night, the birds' cries soundless, until there was no longer dusk, or season, decline, or weather, only this passage of phantasmal light that not the narrowest shadow dared to sever. And men could not see, looking up, what the wild geese drew, what the ospreys trailed behind them in silvery ropes that flashed in the icy sunlight; they could not hear battalions of starlings waging peaceful cries, bearing the net higher, covering this world like the vines of an orchard, or a mother drawing the trembling gauze over the trembling eyes of a child fluttering to sleep; it was the light that you will see at evening on the side of a hill in yellow October, and no one hearing knew what change had brought into the raven's cawing, the killdeer's screech, the ember-circling chough such an immense, soundless, and high concern for the fields and cities where the birds belong, except it was their seasonal passing, Love, made seasonless, or, from the high privilege of their birth, something brighter than pity for the wingless ones below them who shared dark holes in windows and in houses, and higher they lifted the net with soundless voices above all change, betrayals of falling suns, and this season lasted one moment, like the pause between dusk and darkness, between fury and peace, but, for such as our earth is now, it lasted long.")