She was the rose of Sharon from paradise lost From the city of seven hills near the place of the cross. I was playing a show in Miami in the theater of divine comedy. Told about Jesus, told about the rain, She told me about the jungle where her brothers were slain By a man who danced on the roof of the embassy. Was she a child or a woman, I can't say which From one to another she could to easily switch We went into the wall to where the long arm of the law could not reach. Could I been used and played as a pawn? It certainly was possible as the gay night wore on Where men bathed in perfume and celebrated free speech. And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free, Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire. She looked into my soul through the clothes that I wore She said, "We got a mutual friend over by the door, And you know he's got our best interest in mind." He was well connected but her heart was a snare And she had left him to die in there, There were payments due and he was a little behind. The cry of the peacock, flies buzz my head, Ceiling fan broken, there's a heat in my bed, Street band playing "Nearer My God to Thee." We met at the steeple where the mission bells ring, She said, "I know what you're thinking, but there ain't a thing You can do about it, so let us just agree to agree." And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free, Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire. Atlantic City by the cold grey sea I hear a voice crying, "Daddy, " I always think it's for me, But it's only the silence in the buttermilk hills that call. Every new messenger brings evil report 'Bout armies on the march and time that is short And famines and earthquakes and hatred written upon walls. Would I have married her? I don't know, I suppose. She had bells in her braids and they hung to her toes But I kept hearing my name and I had to be movin' on. I saw screws break loose, saw the devil pound tin, I saw a house in the country being torn from within. I heard my ancestors calling from the land far beyond. And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free, Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.
She was well rehearsed, fair brown and blonde, She had friends who were busboys and friends in the Pentagon, Was playing a show in Miami, in the Theatre of Divine Comedy. Talked to shadows where they talked in the rain, I could tell she was still feeling the pain, Pain of rejection, pain of infidelity. Was she a child or a woman, I can’t say which, One to another she could easily switch, Couples were dancing and I lost track of the hours. He was well prepared, I knew he was, Paying attention like a rattlesnake does, When he’s hearing footsteps trampling over his flowers. And the Caribbean winds still blow, from Nassau to Mexico, From the circle of ice to the furnace of desire. And them distant ships of liberty, on them iron waves so bold and free, Bringing everything that’s near to me, nearer to the fire. She looked into my soul through the clothes that I wore, She said ‘we got a mutual friend standing at the door, And you know he’s got our best interests in mind’. He was well connected, but her heart was a snare, And she had left him to die in there, He had two payments due, and he was a little behind. Well I slept in a hotel, where flies buzz my head, Ceiling fan was broken, there was heat in my bed, Street band playing “Nearer My God to Thee”. We met in secret, where we drank from a spring, She said ‘I know what you’re thinking, but there ain’t a thing, We can do about it, so we might as well let it be’. And the Caribbean winds still blow, from Nassau to Mexico, From the circle of ice to the furnace of desire. And them distant ships of liberty, on them iron waves so bold and free, Bringing everything that’s near to me, nearer to the fire. Atlantic City, two years to the day, I hear her voice crying ‘daddy’, and I look that way, But it’s only the silence in the buttermilk hills that call. Every new messenger bringing evil report, ‘bout rioting armies and time that is short, And earthquakes and train wrecks and hate words scribbled on walls. Would I have married her? I don’t know, I suppose, She had bells in her braids, and they hung to her toes, But I heard my name and destiny say to be moving on. Then I felt it come over me, some kind of gloom, Gonna say, ‘Come home with me girl, I got plenty of room’, But I knew I’d be lying and besides she had already gone. And them Caribbean being winds still blow, from Nassau to Mexico, Circle of ice to the furnace of desire. And them distant ships of liberty, on them iron waves so bold and free, Bringing everything that’s near to me, nearer to the fire. (By Definitely Dylan)
Amazing performance, love the lyrics and music, this is another proof that Bob is the Master.. for ever to be, love 💕 your creativity, love you 😍 for everything you have done to this world 🌎 music is necessary for be in harmony with soul and mind..♥️♥️♥️
Beautiful instruments.. heard it before in another song ❣️ piano, organ? make it light! Clever mixing... finishing touch is near all❣️Dylans’ voice goes perfect with the instruments! Thanks Mr T 🌷🌻🎶🌹Thanks as always Dylan🌹❤️👌
It's not about liking this more or less than the one on Biograph. It's the opportunity to glimpse into the genius of Dylan's creative process. Thank-You, Mr. Tambourine for the pleasure.
All 3 versions of this song that I've heard are fascinating, what with the many lyrical changes and the different musical arrangements. It seems that Bob just couldn't get it sorted out into a final version that satisfied him, but they all sound good to me. His mind is so active (and his memory so keen) that he keeps plucking brand new lines full of powerful symbols out of the ether and you never know what might be coming next. One thing I wonder is............who was she? That will remain a mystery.
I guess if I'd only ever had the Biograph version, I'd have been satisfied, but it's grand to have this one too, and the live one three. Thanks Mr T. 🌾🏔️🌸🌴🌄🎸🎸🎸🌈🤸
I somehow never heard this version of this song before. I only knew the version that came out on Biograph in the 80s. I never understood the high esteem many have for the song, because the sound of the Biograph track grates on me. This version sounds like the outtake it is, but at least the quality of the song itself is clearer here. Thank you for sharing it.
High esteem because there are so many wonderful lines. "Would I have married her? I don't know I suppose" is a wonderful human insight on its own. "Was she a child or a woman / I can't say which / One to another she could easily switch" -- "He was well prepared / I knew he was / Paying attention like a rattlesnake does" [don't you wish you could write that well?] "when he's hearing footsteps trampling over his flowers" -- and that's genius, because one thing a snake can only ever envy is trampling...
Caribbean Wind Is A Beautiful Great Straight Up Rock Song By Bob Dylan And Totally Rocks It Needs To Be Fully Cranked Up All The Way To Full Maximum Volume.
Where was this on Springtime In New York. I feel like Dylan's team, the team who choose the songs for the Bootleg Series, don't seem to do well in choosing songs from this period. They let so-so covers and alternate versions of songs like Neighborhood Bully, but they leave out gems like this.
This sounds like one of "the greatest songs" he's ever written (lyrically?) when it starts. Til he decides upon a vocal bridge, or do I just mean a non melodic ending to the chorus? Maybe it's simply that. Such a little fix. Breaks down the groove. But he didn't get it. Apparently not to his satisfaction. Better to have it structured like Stuck in Mobile or rather more like Shelter From The Storm or Desolation Row. Verses only. Can always throw in a musical bridge. Turn it any old way. Like he's not the master of that? Or he didn't figure a good way to end it? I got balls saying this shit. But he could've fixed it just by a little subtraction. The only bigger miscue with one of his songs.. for me.. was She's Your Lover Now. I loved its weirdness and its jerks.. up and down. But hey.. what do I know. Like Bob hasn't already forgotten a dozen times about many of his own creations.. long ago. I guess when you can only eat 4 doughnuts.. the thought of dozens in the truck.. is hardly a concern. Bob knows that. I'm eating the truck. Going to miss this not living anymore.. even in spite of the Nazis in our midst. Agonizing as it is for an incomplete like me.. what else is there? Eternal reward? EVERYBODY WHO CARES.. IS GOING UP THE CASTLE STAIRS.. BUT I'M NOT UP IN THE CASTLE.. HONEY. Forget about me. Five seconds after I'm gone. Should be on millions and millions of our tombstones. But Dylan will still be playing on Earth. And maybe we the dead will be hearing him in the ether, too. Like the last page of Steppenwolf.
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She was the rose of Sharon from paradise lost
From the city of seven hills near the place of the cross.
I was playing a show in Miami in the theater of divine comedy.
Told about Jesus, told about the rain,
She told me about the jungle where her brothers were slain
By a man who danced on the roof of the embassy.
Was she a child or a woman, I can't say which
From one to another she could to easily switch
We went into the wall to where the long arm of the law could not reach.
Could I been used and played as a pawn?
It certainly was possible as the gay night wore on
Where men bathed in perfume and celebrated free speech.
And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.
She looked into my soul through the clothes that I wore
She said, "We got a mutual friend over by the door,
And you know he's got our best interest in mind."
He was well connected but her heart was a snare
And she had left him to die in there,
There were payments due and he was a little behind.
The cry of the peacock, flies buzz my head,
Ceiling fan broken, there's a heat in my bed,
Street band playing "Nearer My God to Thee."
We met at the steeple where the mission bells ring,
She said, "I know what you're thinking, but there ain't a thing
You can do about it, so let us just agree to agree."
And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.
Atlantic City by the cold grey sea
I hear a voice crying, "Daddy, " I always think it's for me,
But it's only the silence in the buttermilk hills that call.
Every new messenger brings evil report
'Bout armies on the march and time that is short
And famines and earthquakes and hatred written upon walls.
Would I have married her? I don't know, I suppose.
She had bells in her braids and they hung to her toes
But I kept hearing my name and I had to be movin' on.
I saw screws break loose, saw the devil pound tin,
I saw a house in the country being torn from within.
I heard my ancestors calling from the land far beyond.
And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.
Thanks. Just pinned it.
Although I think they need to be fixed in a few places, but the core is there.
Respect
@@RicdelaBastide Wrong lyrics for this version....
@@GoffyDylan thanks
Shot of Love could have been absolutely incredible: Caribbean Wind, Angelina, Groom, Making a Liar, Yonder Comes Sin, Need A Woman.
Every version of this song is a masterpiece. This version is in a class by itself. Best song non Dylan fans have never heard!!
I love this song
Holy shit, yet another version. This song is deeply fascinating in every iteration!!
She was well rehearsed, fair brown and blonde,
She had friends who were busboys and friends in the Pentagon,
Was playing a show in Miami, in the Theatre of Divine Comedy.
Talked to shadows where they talked in the rain,
I could tell she was still feeling the pain,
Pain of rejection, pain of infidelity.
Was she a child or a woman, I can’t say which,
One to another she could easily switch,
Couples were dancing
and I lost track of the hours.
He was well prepared, I knew he was,
Paying attention like a rattlesnake does,
When he’s hearing footsteps trampling over his flowers.
And the Caribbean winds still blow,
from Nassau to Mexico,
From the circle of ice to the furnace of desire.
And them distant ships of liberty,
on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that’s near to me,
nearer to the fire.
She looked into my soul through the clothes that I wore,
She said ‘we got a mutual friend standing at the door,
And you know he’s got our best interests in mind’.
He was well connected, but her heart was a snare,
And she had left him to die in there,
He had two payments due, and he was a little behind.
Well I slept in a hotel, where flies buzz my head,
Ceiling fan was broken, there was heat in my bed,
Street band playing “Nearer My God to Thee”.
We met in secret, where we drank from a spring,
She said ‘I know what you’re thinking, but there ain’t a thing,
We can do about it, so we might as well let it be’.
And the Caribbean winds still blow,
from Nassau to Mexico,
From the circle of ice to the furnace of desire.
And them distant ships of liberty,
on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that’s near to me,
nearer to the fire.
Atlantic City, two years to the day,
I hear her voice crying ‘daddy’, and I look that way,
But it’s only the silence in the buttermilk hills that call.
Every new messenger bringing evil report,
‘bout rioting armies and time that is short,
And earthquakes and train wrecks and hate words scribbled on walls.
Would I have married her? I don’t know, I suppose,
She had bells in her braids, and they hung to her toes,
But I heard my name and destiny say to be moving on.
Then I felt it come over me, some kind of gloom,
Gonna say, ‘Come home with me girl, I got plenty of room’,
But I knew I’d be lying and besides she had already gone.
And them Caribbean being winds still blow,
from Nassau to Mexico,
Circle of ice to the furnace of desire.
And them distant ships of liberty,
on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that’s near to me,
nearer to the fire.
(By Definitely Dylan)
Amazing performance, love the lyrics and music, this is another proof that Bob is the Master.. for ever to be, love 💕 your creativity, love you 😍 for everything you have done to this world 🌎 music is necessary for be in harmony with soul and mind..♥️♥️♥️
I wonder if Bob has as much fun changing these songs as we do listening to them....hope so
One of his best.
Beautiful instruments.. heard it before in another song ❣️ piano, organ? make it light! Clever mixing... finishing touch is near all❣️Dylans’ voice goes perfect with the instruments! Thanks Mr T 🌷🌻🎶🌹Thanks as always Dylan🌹❤️👌
It's not about liking this more or less than the one on Biograph. It's the opportunity to glimpse into the genius of Dylan's creative process. Thank-You, Mr. Tambourine for the pleasure.
Still my favourite version .. of what is surely one of his best ever songs. Top 20?
One of my all time favorites! I love women who love Dylan...means they are smart, intuitive, and hot. Sing on, Bob.
All 3 versions of this song that I've heard are fascinating, what with the many lyrical changes and the different musical arrangements. It seems that Bob just couldn't get it sorted out into a final version that satisfied him, but they all sound good to me. His mind is so active (and his memory so keen) that he keeps plucking brand new lines full of powerful symbols out of the ether and you never know what might be coming next. One thing I wonder is............who was she? That will remain a mystery.
What a shame Dylan left this off the album. Best song of those sessions.
He is the Greatest!
Absolutely fantastic version of the song mr tambourine. Many thanks Gary
I guess if I'd only ever had the Biograph version, I'd have been satisfied, but it's grand to have this one too, and the live one three. Thanks Mr T. 🌾🏔️🌸🌴🌄🎸🎸🎸🌈🤸
I believe Dylan said he just couldn’t finish this song. I love this version play it loud.
Thanks Bob,
Thanks mr tambourine...
I somehow never heard this version of this song before. I only knew the version that came out on Biograph in the 80s. I never understood the high esteem many have for the song, because the sound of the Biograph track grates on me. This version sounds like the outtake it is, but at least the quality of the song itself is clearer here. Thank you for sharing it.
This version has different lyrics than the Biograph version.
Another version being released on the Gospel Box Set. Much slower.
High esteem because there are so many wonderful lines. "Would I have married her? I don't know I suppose" is a wonderful human insight on its own. "Was she a child or a woman / I can't say which / One to another she could easily switch" -- "He was well prepared / I knew he was / Paying attention like a rattlesnake does" [don't you wish you could write that well?] "when he's hearing footsteps trampling over his flowers" -- and that's genius, because one thing a snake can only ever envy is trampling...
un vrai plaisir de l entendre sa voix si particuliere me plait merci
fadi fadidi my pleasure
Caribbean Wind Is A Beautiful Great Straight Up Rock Song By Bob Dylan And Totally Rocks It Needs To Be Fully Cranked Up All The Way To Full Maximum Volume.
A great posting! Thank you!
ah ah ..... i love listen this sweet voice ....good orchestration ♥♥♥
targarosko enjoy
voice melody music All are here thanks bob
Love this song
.hey ,mr. t thanks. Such a breezy song….lm in heaven….
This song is far too great to be an outtake!!!
What an interesting character to of had friends who was busboys and friends in the pentagon. Busboy myself.
amazing...
Where was this on Springtime In New York. I feel like Dylan's team, the team who choose the songs for the Bootleg Series, don't seem to do well in choosing songs from this period. They let so-so covers and alternate versions of songs like Neighborhood Bully, but they leave out gems like this.
Two Bootleg Series box sets covering Shot of Love have left this take off.
Should have been on the new Springtime in New York bootleg release,
Nice never disapoints
Wish this can get an official released and cleaned up.
Good song.
Did he leave this off the album because it has the melody of Wagon Wheel?
This sounds like one of "the greatest songs" he's ever written (lyrically?) when it starts. Til he decides upon a vocal bridge, or do I just mean a non melodic ending to the chorus? Maybe it's simply that. Such a little fix. Breaks down the groove. But he didn't get it. Apparently not to his satisfaction. Better to have it structured like Stuck in Mobile or rather more like Shelter From The Storm or Desolation Row. Verses only. Can always throw in a musical bridge. Turn it any old way. Like he's not the master of that? Or he didn't figure a good way to end it? I got balls saying this shit. But he could've fixed it just by a little subtraction. The only bigger miscue with one of his songs.. for me.. was She's Your Lover Now. I loved its weirdness and its jerks.. up and down. But hey.. what do I know. Like Bob hasn't already forgotten a dozen times about many of his own creations.. long ago. I guess when you can only eat 4 doughnuts.. the thought of dozens in the truck.. is hardly a concern. Bob knows that. I'm eating the truck. Going to miss this not living anymore.. even in spite of the Nazis in our midst. Agonizing as it is for an incomplete like me.. what else is there? Eternal reward? EVERYBODY WHO CARES.. IS GOING UP THE CASTLE STAIRS.. BUT I'M NOT UP IN THE CASTLE.. HONEY. Forget about me. Five seconds after I'm gone. Should be on millions and millions of our tombstones. But Dylan will still be playing on Earth. And maybe we the dead will be hearing him in the ether, too. Like the last page of Steppenwolf.
I really do
Wow
Strange
don't know why the chorus get's so much hate. He is just experimenting a bit, not meant for final release.
why outtake ?
Weird. Verses are great. The chorus is just ridiculous.
There is a misfit between them, I agree. Presumably why it wasn't initially released?
I think Dylan knew that, which is why it did not make it to the album.
Ridiculous, but highly evocative, so no longer so ridiculous....
His method of filling gaps in songs is to make up nonsense lyrics.
Love this song