Dirge — текст песни (Bob Dylan)

I hate myself for lovin you and the weakness that it showed

You were just a painted face on a trip down suicide road.

The stage was set, the lights went out all around the old hotel,

I hate myself for lovin you and Im glad the curtain fell.



I hate that foolish game we played and the need that was expressed

And the mercy that you showed to me, who ever would have guessed?

I went out on lower broadway and I felt that place within,

That hollow place where martyrs weep and angels play with sin.



Heard your songs of freedom and man forever stripped,

Acting out his folly while his back is being whipped.

Like a slave in orbit, hes beaten til hes tame,

All for a moments glory and its a dirty, rotten shame.



There are those who worship loneliness, Im not one of them,

In this age of fiberglass Im searching for a gem.

The crystal ball up on the wall hasnt shown me nothing yet,

Ive paid the price of solitude, but at last Im out of debt.



Cant recall a useful thing you ever did for me

cept pat me on the back one time when I was on my knees.

We stared into each others eyes til one of us would break,

No use to apologize, what diffrence would it make?



So sing your praise of progress and of the doom machine,

The naked truth is still taboo whenever it can be seen.

Lady luck, who shines on me, will tell you where Im at,

I hate myself for lovin you, but I should get over that.