Bastard Son — текст песни (John Wesley Harding)

Bob dylan is my father, joan baez is my mother

And Im their bastard son

Though my roots show through Im just 22

I dont belong to anyone

When the band was disbanded, I was disowned

I got a number you can ring me on but I aint got no phone

Got a forwarding address, baby I aint got no home

I got no direction home

Thats the style of a bastard child

This is the song of a bastard son



Uncle lenny used to make me laugh

Took away my nightmares, tore my daydreams in half

Showed them to me reflected upside-down

In the mirror that suzanne vega found

Lennys still doing his tricks today

Only goes to show that growing up might pay



Bruce and james were family friends

Took my mind to carolina through the new jersey bends

Gave me a harmonica when I was three

Nailed a banjo to my knees

Now bruce is a foreman and james is a slave

Bruce gave in and james just gave up



My family didnt grow up too well with technology

And I think this is why they disowned me

But now I wanna get back into the fold

I dont wanna be a black sheep, I dont wanna grow old

Heres to warren, neil, t-bone, andy, lou, townes, elliott

Tom, steve, elizabeth, elvia, dave

Youre singing something good and its gotta be saved

I think so!



Ive only just started playing guitar and already they say

Im a has-been

Say my songs are too long, words are too strong, shoes

Arent clean

See the synthesizers broken, the 12 inch does not exist

Its gonna take a blessed life to get on to the hitlist

Im gonna need a blessed life to get on to the hitlist

But Im singing for the men, for the women and the kids

Who grew up like me with seven basic instincts hid



Bob dylan is my father, joan baez is my mother

And Im their bastard son.