by Bob Dylan <\/p>\n
‘Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
\nWhen blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
\nI came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.
\n“Come in,” she said,
\n“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”<\/p>\n
And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
\nI’ll always do my best for her, on that I give my word
\nIn a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm.
\n“Come in,” she said,
\n“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”<\/p>\n
Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved
\nEverything up to that point had been left unresolved.
\nTry imagining a place where it’s always safe and warm.
\n“Come in,” she said,
\n“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”<\/p>\n
I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,
\nPoisoned in the bushes an’ blown out on the trail,
\nHunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.
\n“Come in,” she said,
\n“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”<\/p>\n
Suddenly I turned around and she was standin’ there
\nWith silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair.
\nShe walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns.
\n“Come in,” she said,
\n“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”<\/p>\n
Now there’s a wall between us, somethin’ there’s been lost
\nI took too much for granted, got my signals crossed.
\nJust to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn.
\n“Come in,” she said,
\n“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”<\/p>\n
Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
\nBut nothing really matters much, it’s doom alone that counts
\nAnd the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn.
\n“Come in,” she said,
\n“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”<\/p>\n
I’ve heard newborn babies wailin’ like a mournin’ dove
\nAnd old men with broken teeth stranded without love.
\nDo I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
\n“Come in,” she said,
\n“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”<\/p>\n
In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes
\nI bargained for salvation an’ they gave me a lethal dose.
\nI offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn.
\n“Come in,” she said,
\n“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”<\/p>\n
Well, I’m livin’ in a foreign country but I’m bound to cross the line
\nBeauty walks a razor’s edge, someday I’ll make it mine.
\nIf I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born.
\n“Come in,” she said,
\n“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”<\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
by Bob Dylan ‘Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form. “Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm.” And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured I’ll always do my best for her, on that I give my word In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"aside","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[132],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-382","post","type-post","status-publish","format-aside","hentry","category-music","post_format-post-format-aside"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4uks-6a","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/cyrusfarivar.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/382","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/cyrusfarivar.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/cyrusfarivar.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cyrusfarivar.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cyrusfarivar.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=382"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/cyrusfarivar.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/382\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/cyrusfarivar.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=382"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cyrusfarivar.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=382"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cyrusfarivar.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=382"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}