by Bob Dylan

Of war and peace the truth just twists
Its twists, its curfew gull it glides
Upon four-legged four legged forest clouds
The the cowboy angel rides
With his candle lit into the sun
Though though it's glow is waxed in black
All except beneath the trees of Eden

The lamp post stands with folded arms
It's its iron claws attached
To curbs 'neath holes where babies wail
Through its shadow's metal badge
All in all can only fall
With with a crashing but meaningless blow
No sound ever comes from The the Gates of Eden

The savage soldier sticks his head
In in the sand and then complains
Unto the shoeless hunter who's gone deaf
But but still remains
Upon the beach where hound dogs bay
At at ships with tattooed sails
Heading for The the Gates of Eden

The time rusted compass blade
blade, Aladdin and his lamp
Sits with Utopian hermit monks
Side monks, side saddle on the golden calf Golden Calf
And on their promises of paradise
You you will not hear a hush laugh
All except inside The the Gates of Eden

Relationships of ownership
They they whisper in the wings
To those condemned to act accordingly
And and wait for succeeding kings
And I try to harmonize with songs
The the lonesome sparrow sings
There are no kings inside the Gates of Eden

The motorcycle 'Black Madonna', two-wheeled gypsy queen
And her silver-studded phantom cause the gray flannel dwarf to scream
As he weeps to wicked birds of prey, pick up on his bread crumb sins
And there are no sins inside the Gates of Eden

The kingdoms of experience
In in the precious winds they rot
While paupers change possessions
Each one wishing for what the other has got
And the princess and the prince discuss
What's what's real and what's not
It doesn't matter inside The the Gates of Eden

The foreign sun it squints upon
A a bed that is never mine
As friends and others, strangers
From from their fates try to resign
Leaving men holy and totally free
To to do anything they wish to do but die
And there are no trialsenter deleted
inside The the Gates of Eden

At dawn my lover comes to me
And and tells me of her dreams
With no attempts to shovel the glimpse
Into the ditch of what each one means
At times I think there are no words
But but these to tell me what's true
ThereAnd there are no truths outside The the Gates of Eden