It goes back to the destiny thing.I made a bargain with it, you know, a long time ago. And I'm holding up my end.
Bob DylanAs he weeps to wicked birds of prey, who pick up on his bread crumb sins, and there are no sins inside the Gates of Eden.
Bob DylanI was lingering out on the pavement. There was a missing person inside of myself and I needed to find him . . . I felt done for, an empty burned-out wreck . . . Wherever I am, I'm a '60s troubadour, a folk-rock relic, a wordsmith from bygone days, a fictitious head of state from a place nobody knows.
Bob DylanNow all the criminals in their suits and ties are free to drink martinis and watch the sunrise
Bob Dylan