Bob Dylan - Desolation Row

They’re selling
postcards of the hanging
They’re painting
the passports brown
The beauty parlor
is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They’ve got him in a trance
One hand is tied to
the tight rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad
they’re restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row
Cinderella she seems so easy
It takes one to know one
she smiles
And puts her hands
in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo
he’s moaning
You Belong to Me I Believe
And someone says
You’re in the wrong place my friend
You better leave
And the only sound that’s left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row
Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortune-telling lady
Has even taken all
her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan
he’s dressing
He’s getting ready for the show
He’s going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row
Ophelia she’s ’neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession’s her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah’s great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row
Einstein disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend a jealous monk
He looked so
immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off
sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row
Dr. Filth he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They’re trying to blow it up
Now his nurse some local loser
She’s in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps
the cards that read
Have Mercy on His Soul
They all play on pennywhistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row
Across the street they’ve
nailed the curtains
They’re getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
In a perfect image of a priest
They’re spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they’ll kill him
with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom’s
shouting to skinny girls
Get Outa Here
If You Don’t Know
Casanova is just being
punished for going
To Desolation Row
Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that
nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row
Praise be to Nero’s Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody’s shouting
Which Side Are You On
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain’s tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row
Yes I received
your letter yesterday
About the time
the doorknob broke
When you asked me
how I was doing
Or was that some kind of joke
All these people
that you mention
Yes I know them
they’re quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can’t read too good
Don’t send me
no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row

Bob Dylan - Desolation Row (Pasaje de la desolación) (Lyrics & Traducción, EN-ESP)

Bob Dylan - Desolation Row Traducida al español & lyrics in english. Personalmente creo que esta es la mejor versión de la surrealista canción aquí mostrada, ...