My love she speaks like silence,
Without ideals or violence,
She doesn't have to say she's faithful,
Yet she's true, like ice, like fire.
People carry roses,
Make promises by the hours,
My love she laughs like the flowers,
Valentines can't buy her.

In the dime stores and bus stations,
People talk of situations,
Read books, repeat quotations,
Draw conclusions on the wall.
Some speak of the future,
My love she speaks softly,
She knows there's no success like failure
And that failure's no success at all.

The cloak and dagger dangles,
Madams light the candles.
In ceremonies of the horsemen,
Even the pawn must hold a grudge.
Statues made of match sticks,
Crumble into one another,
My love winks, she does not bother,
She knows too much to argue or to judge.

The bridge at midnight trembles,
The country doctor rambles,
Bankers' nieces seek perfection,
Expecting all the gifts that wise men bring.
The wind howls like a hammer,
The night blows cold and rainy,
My love she's like some raven
At my window with a broken wing.


Love Minus Zero/No Limit
Bob Dylan

 

^^ and one can only assume that because he has declared all her virtues and loyalty, that he will protect and care for her. A song of love from a master of words.

 

This is one of my favorite love songs. You are correct, a master of words.

 

Thanks, Rob. I like that song -- I like the succession of images that it invokes in rapid order, and I like the values that it exudes in an oblique way. I once knew well what a great lyricist Dylan was. And then I kind of lost track.