Bob Dylan - Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands lyrics

[Bob Dylan - Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands lyrics]

With your mercury mouth in
The missionary times
And your eyes like smoke and
Your prayers like rhymes
And your silver cross
And your voice like chimes
Oh, who do they think could bury you?
With your pockets well protected at last
And your streetcar visions which ya
Place on the grass and your flesh like silk
And your face like glass
Who could they get to carry you?

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says
That no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I put them by your gate?
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

With your sheets like metal and


Your belt like lace
And your deck of cards missing
The jack and the ace
And your basement clothes and
Your hollow face who among them can think
He could outguess you?
With your silhouette when the sunlight dims
Into your eyes where the moonlight swims
And your matchbook songs and your gypsy hymns
Who among them would try to impress you?

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophets say
That no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I put them by your gate?
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

The kings of Tyrus with their convict list
Are waiting in line for their geranium kiss
And ya wouldn't know it
Woulda happened like this
But who among them really wants
Just to kiss you?
With your childhood flames on
Your midnight rug
And your Spanish manners and
Your mother's drugs
And your cowboy mouth and your curfew plugs
Who among them do ya think could resist you?

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophets say
That no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate?
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

Oh, the farmers and the businessmen
They all did decide
To show you where the dead angels
Are that they used to hide
But why did they pick you
To sympathize with their side?
How could they ever mistake you?
They wished you’d accepted the
Blame for the farm
But with the sea at your feet
And the phony false alarm
And with the child of the hoodlum
Wrapped up in your arms
How could they ever have persuaded you?

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophets say
That no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate?
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

With your sheet-metal memory of Cannery Row
And your magazine husband who one
Day just had to go and your gentleness now
Which you just can't help but show
Who among them do you think would employ you?
Now you stand with your thief
You're on his parole
With your holy medallion and your
Fingertips now that fold
And your saintlike face and
Your ghost-like soul
Who among them could ever think
It could destroy you?

Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet say
That no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate?
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

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