|
(from Chimes of Freedom: Songs of Bob Dylan Honoring 50 Years of Amnesty International) |
|
They sat together in the park |
|
As the evening sky grew dark, |
|
She looked at him and he felt a spark tingle to his bones. |
|
'Twas then he felt alone and wished that he'd gone straight |
|
And watched out for a simple twist of fate. |
|
They walked along by the old canal |
|
A little confused, I remember well |
|
And stopped into a strange hotel with a neon burnin' bright. |
|
He felt the heat of the night hit him like a freight train |
|
Moving with a simple twist of fate. |
|
A saxophone someplace far off played |
|
As she was walkin' by the arcade. |
|
As the light bust through a beat-up shade where he was wakin' up, |
|
She dropped a coin into the cup of a blind man at the gate |
|
And forgot about a simple twist of fate. |
|
He woke up, the room was bare |
|
He didn't see her anywhere. |
|
He told himself he didn't care, pushed the window open wide, |
|
Felt an emptiness inside to which he just could not relate |
|
Brought on by a simple twist of fate. |
|
He hears the ticking of the clocks |
|
And walks along with a parrot that talks, |
|
Hunts her down by the waterfront docks where the sailers all come in. |
|
Maybe she'll pick him out again, how long must he wait |
|
Once more for a simple twist of fate. |
|
People tell me it's a sin |
|
To know and feel too much within. |
|
I still believe she was my twin, but I lost the ring. |
|
She was born in spring, but I was born too late |
|
Blame it on a simple twist of fate. |
