Bob Dylan

CARIBBEAN WIND

                Words and Music by Bob Dylan
                1985 Special Rider Music

Lyrics

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 the man who invented iron and disappeared so mysteriously.

Was she a child or an angel? Did we go too far?
Did we snap at the bait, did we follow a star
Through the hole in the wall to where the long arm of the law cannot reach?
Could I been used and played as a pawn?
It certainly was possible as the gay night wore on
When men bathed in perfume and practiced the hoax of 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.

Sea breeze blowin', there's a hellhound loose,
Arabian men who have escaped from the noose,
Preaching faith and salvation, waiting for the night to arise.
He was well connected but her heart was a snare
And she had left him to die in there,
He was goin' down slow, just barely staying alive.

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 train wrecks and the tearin' down of the walls.

Did you ever have a dream that you couldn't explain?
Did you ever meet your accusers face to face in the rain?
She had lone brown eyes that I won't forget as long as she's gone.
I see the screws breaking loose, see the devil pounding on tin,
I see a house in the country being torn from within.
I can hear 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.