Untitled 5 (The Jumping)Bob Dylan

run go get out of here
quick
leave joshua
split
go fit your battle
do your thing
i lost my glasses
can’t see jericho
the wind is tyin’ knots
in my hair
nothin’ seems
t’ be straight
out there
no i shan’t go with you
i can’t go with you

on the brooklyn bridge
he was cockeyed
an’ stood on the edge
there was a priest talkin’ to him
i was shiftin’ myself around
so i could see from all sides
in an’ out of stretched necks
an’ things
cops held people back
the lady in back of me
burst into my groin
“sick sick some are so sick”
like a circus trapeze act
“oh i hope he don’t do it”
he was on the other side of the railin’
both eyes fiery wide
wet with sweat
the mouth of a shark
rolled up soiled sleeves
his arms were thick an’ tattooed
an’ he wore a silver watch
i could tell at a glance
he was uselessly lonely
i couldn’t stay an’ look at him
i couldn’t stay an’ look at him
because i suddenly realized that
deep in my heart
i really wanted
t’ see him jump

(a mob. each member knowin’
that they all know an’ see the same thing
they have the same thing in common.
can stare at each other in total blankness
they do not have t’ speak an’ not feel guilty
about havin’ nothing t’ say. everyday boredom
soaked by the temporary happiness
of that their search is finally over
for findin’ a way t’ communicate a leech cookout
giant cop out. all mobs i would think.
an’ i was in it an’ caught by the excitement of it)

an’ i walked away
i wanted t’ see him jump so bad
that i had t’ walk away an’ hide
uptown uptown
orchard street
through all those people on
orchard street
pants legs in my face
“comere! comere!”
i don’t need no clothes
an’ cross the street
skull caps climb
by themselves out of manholes
an’ shoeboxes ride
the cracks of the sidewalk
fishermen —
i’ve suddenly been turned into
a fish
but does anybody
wanna be a fisherman
any more ‘n i
don’t wanna be a fish

(swingin’ wanda’s
down in new orleans
rumbles across
brick written
swear word
vulgar wall
in new york city)

no they can’t make it
off the banks of their river

i am in their river
(i wonder if he jumped
i really wonder if he jumped)
i turn corner
t’ get off river
an’ get off river
still goin’ up
i about face
an’ discover
that i’m on another river

(this time. king rex
blesses me with plastic beads
an’ toot toot whistles
paper rings an’ things.
royal street.
bourbon street
st. claude an’ esplanade
pass an’ pull
everything out of shape
joe b. stuart
white southern poet
holds me up
we charge through casa
blazin’ jukebox
gumbo overflowin’
get kicked out of colored bar
streets jammed
hypnotic stars explode
in louisiana murder night
everything’s wedged
arm in arm
stoned galore
must see you in mobile then
down governor nichel
an’ gone)

ok i can get off this river too
on bleeker street
i meet many friends
who look back at me
as if they know something
i don’t know

rocco an’ his brothers
say that some people
are worse hung up than me
i don’t wanna hear it
a basketball drops through
the hoop
an’ i recall that the
living theater’s been busted

(has the guy jumped yet?)
intellectual spiders
weave down sixth avenue
with colt forty-fives
stickin’ out of their
belly buttons
an’ for the first time
in my life
i’m proud that
i haven’t read into
any masterpiece books
(an’ why did i wanna see that
poor soul so dead?)

first of all two people get
together an’ they want their doors

enlarged. second of all, more
people see what’s happenin’ an’
come t’ help with the door
enlargement. the ones that arrive
however have nothin’ more than
“let’s get these doors enlarged”
t’ say t’ the ones who were
there in the first place. it follows then that
the whole thing revolves around
nothing but this door enlargement idea.
third of all, there’s a group now existin’
an’ the only thing that keeps them friends
is that they all want the doors enlarged.
obviously, the doors’re then enlarged
fourth of all,
after this enlargement
the group has t’ find
something else t’ keep
them together or
else the door enlargement
will prove t’ be
embarrassing

on fourteenth street
i meet someone
who i know in front
wants t’ put me
uptight
wants me t’ be on
his level
in all honesty
he wants t’ drag
me down there
i realize gravity
is my only enemy
loneliness has clutched
hands an’ squeezes you
into wrongin’ others
everybody has t’ do things
keep themselves occupied
the workin’ ones
have their minds on
the weekends
victims of the system
pack movie theaters
an’ who an’ of what
sadistic company is he
from that has the right
t’ condemn others as trivial
whose fault
an’ who really is t’ blame
for one man carryin’ a gun
it is impossible that
it’s him
slaves are of no special color
an’ the links of chains
fall into no special order
how good an actor do you have to be
and play God

(in greece, a little old lady
a worker lady
looks at me
rubs her chin
an’ by sign language asks
how come i’m so unshaven
“the sea is very beautiful here”

i reply
pointin’ t’ my chin.
an’ she believes me
needs no other answer
i strum the guitar
she dances
laughs
her bandana flies
i too realize that
she will die here
one the side of this sea
her death is certain here
my death is unknown
an’ i come t’ think that
i love her)

i talk t’ people every day
involved in some scene
good an’ evil are but words
invented by those
that are trapped in scenes

on what grounds are the
grounds for judgment
an i think also
that there is not
one thing anyplace
anywhere that makes any
sense. there are only tears
an’ there is only sorrow
there are no problems

i have seen what i’ve loved
slip away an’ vanish. i still
love what i’ve lost but t’ run
an’ try t’ catch it’d
be very greedy
for the rest of my life
i will never chase a livin’ soul
into the prison grasp
of my own self-love

i can’t believe that i have
t’ hate anybody
an’ when i do
it will only be out of fear
an’ i’ll know it

i know no answers an’ no truth
for absolutely no soul alive
i will listen t’ no one
who tells me morals
there are no morals
an’ i dream a lot

so go joshua
go fit your battle
i have t’ go t’ the woods
for a while
i hope you understand
but if you don’t
it doesn’t matter
i will be with you
nex’ time around
don’t think about me
i’ll be ok
just go ahead out there
right out there
do what you say
you’re gonna do
an’ who knows
someday
someone might even
write
a song
about you