That's not an original Bob Dylan song, but something from "World Gone Wrong," a collection of traditional folk songs. Dylan recorded the album solo in his home studio in May 1993. It was the last album made to fulfill a contract he'd signed in 1988. That might sound as though he didn't like contracts, but by the end of 1993, he'd signed another contract, obligating himself to make 10 more albums.
Here are all the lyrics to "Blood in My Eyes," which seems to say something about contracts (and, yes, Donald Trump):
Woke up this morning, feeling blue,He only wants damages (restitution?), not specific performance.
Seen a good-lookin' girl, can I make love with you?...
I went back home, put on my tie,
Gonna get that girl that money that money will buy...
She looked at me, begin to smile,
Said, "Hey, hey, man, can't you wait a little while?"...
No, no, ma'ma, I can't wait,
You got my money, now you're trying to break this date...
I tell you something, tell you the facts,
You don't want me, give my money back.
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12 comments:
No is no. Specific performance is not a lawful remedy.
But on the other hand, if one is a lawless Clinton no is not no.
It's about menstruation.
He only wants damages (restitution?), not specific performance.
Given the rebuffed sexual quid pro quo theme of the lyrics, disgorgement -- or disengorgement? -- is probably the more apt remedy than restitution.
Brokedown Bobby Shakes says...
I like the Bob Dylan, but he gets a bit too wordy-like for an old rock-and-roller like me. I like my songs to get to the point, without a lot of haberdashery, you know...?
Like my song "Yo Sister Be Twelve": it gets down to the goods, real quick, and it don't hide none behind illusions or allusions or confusions or whatever you call it...
Yo Sister Be Twelve
And that's fine by me
Take her down off the shelf
Jess her and me
Yo Sister Be Twelve
And I like her jess fine
Kiss her on the mouth
Gonna make her mine
Yo Sister Be Twelve
That's eleven plus one
Gonna check out her valves
Gonna make her motor run
Yo Sister She Be Twelve
Yo Sister She Be Twelve
See? It don't have to be all complicated, Bob. My song, it's easy to understand: my friend's sister is twelve, I like her fine, and I wanna get her motor runnin'. Simple as that.
Or how 'bout my song "Sweet Little Twelve?"
Sweet Little Twelve
It's only months away
Sweet Little Twelve
will be a sweet special day
Sweet Little Twelve
You oh so itty-bitty
Sweet Little Twelve
Gonna take you to the city
And when I say
I'm gonna take you to the city
I mean I'll take you downtown, baby girl,
I'll take you downtown real good
Sweet Little Twelve
Sweet Little Twelve
Now that wasn't hard to understand, was it? We all wanna get to 'downtown' with a girl, you know what I mean? Bob, he could take a lesson or two on getting to the point....
So I live my life on the road, rockin' and rollin'. Who knows -- I might be comin' to your town, too, and if you come see me, do Bobby a favor: bring your granddaughters...
I am Laslo.
Make love with.
Not make love to.
That mean something.
I'd call that rescission.
And then, afterwards, I'd bother to look it up.
Brokedown Bobby Shakes says...
Bob Dylan, he write sorrow okay, but it's always twisted up in rubber-band words, you know? Now here's a song I wrote about sorrow, maybe you'll see the difference: "Girl, You Just Turned Thirteen."
Girl, you just Turned Thirteen
You ain't twelve anymore
I don't mean to be mean to you
But I'm out the door
Girl, you just Turned Thirteen
And now you're a year too old
Thirteen ain't my scene, understand?
And I need someone Twelve to Hold
Girl, you just Turned Thirteen
Girl, you just Turned Thirteen
See how simple that is? My girl turned thirteen and I'm sad, because I gotta let her go. Because she's no longer twelve. Bob, he could take some lessons from me, 'cause, Bob: no one knows what the fuck you mean by "Tangled Up In Blue." Rock&Roll ain't literature, my man...
So I live my life on the road, rockin' and rollin'. Who knows -- I might be comin' to your town, too, and if you come see me, do Bobby a favor: bring your granddaughters...
I am Laslo.
Brokedown Bobby Shakes says...
People, they tell me: Bobby, you shouldn't be singin' about twelve-year-old girls no more. I say Bullshit on THAT: that's like telling Bob Dylan he can't use no Bible references no more. An artist writes what he knows and then it's written, that's how it works...
That's not to say my song-writing hasn't matured some over these years. Here's one of my latest: "I Remember When You Were Twelve."
I Remember When You Were Twelve
It seems so long ago
I was thirty-seven goin' on fifty-eight
When I had to let you go
Things like us never last
My head knows this to be true
But in my heart you'll always be twelve
Just like all the girls after you
I Remember When You Were Twelve
I Remember When You Were Twelve
A man can only write something like that with a lot of life under his belt, and me -- Bobby Shakes -- has had a LOT of twelve-year-olds under his belt...
So I live my life on the road, rockin' and rollin'. Who knows -- I might be comin' to your town, too, and if you come see me, do Bobby a favor: bring your granddaughters...
I am Laslo.
Brokedown Bobby Shakes says...
I like the Bob Dylan, but he gets a bit too wordy-like for an old rock-and-roller like me. I like my songs to get to the point, without a lot of haberdashery, you know...?
Like my song "Yo Sister Be Twelve": it gets down to the goods, real quick, and it don't hide none behind illusions or allusions or confusions or whatever you call it...
Yo Sister Be Twelve
And that's fine by me
Take her down off the shelf
Jess her and me
Yo Sister Be Twelve
And I like her jess fine
Kiss her on the mouth
Gonna make her mine
Yo Sister Be Twelve
That's eleven plus one
Gonna check out her valves
Gonna make her motor run
Yo Sister She Be Twelve
Yo Sister She Be Twelve
See, that right there proves the point I was trying to make yesterday re Chess bros. There but for fortune goes Brokedown Bobby Shakes. Every bit as good as Chuck Berry (or Bob Dylan), but just never in the right place at the right time.
Was there an acceptance? He thinks they were on a date. Does she? If there is a contract, does its terms include the thing he wants? If you get past all that, then restitution does seem like an appropriate remedy. Expectation damages would be tough to calculate.
Nice cover by Bob. But for a Dylan song with "Blood" in the title that could be used as a soundtrack for the Trump campaign, I'd go with "Pay in Blood".
I'll give you justice, I'll fathom your purse
Show me your moral that you reversed
Hear me holler, hear me moan
I pay in blood but not my own
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