Dylan y sus Demonios

Con Bob Dylan tengo una relación amor-odio. Algunos de sus discos y canciones me parecen fundamentales y gustoso me llevaría varios de ellos a una isla desierta (el Blonde on Blonde, por ejemplo), pero algunos otros -los menos, felizmente- no los soporto y me aburren terriblemente. Algunos me tildarán de hereje y abominarán mi nombre, estoy seguro, pero olvidan que ese es el propósito de este blog.

Como sea, entre las obras fundamentales de Dylan, está una canción que es un manifiesto atemporal sobre muchas cosas (la mediocridad, por ejemplo), se llama "Ballad of a Thin Man" (algo así como La Balada del Hombre Débil) y está en el album "Highway 61 Revisited" del año 1965 (si pueden consiganlo o robenlo de cualquier amigo, no hay pierde).

Les dejo a continuación la letra pues me parece lo esencial de la canción y porque, además, aún no sé cómo subir música a estas cosas.... Do you, Mr. Jones?

BALLAD OF A THIN MAN

You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard
But you don't understand
Just what you'll say
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You raise up your head
And you ask, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says
"It's his"
And you say, "What's mine?"
And somebody else says, "Where what is?"
And you say, "Oh my God
Am I here all alone?"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, "How does it feel
To be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible"
As he hands you a bone

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

You've been with the professors
And they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of
F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well read
It's well known

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Now you see this one-eyed midget
Shouting the word "NOW"
And you say, "For what reason?"
And he says, "How?"
And you say, "What does this mean?"
And he screams back, "You're a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin' around
You should be made
To wear earphones

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?