Honest With Me


The narrator is considering how he might convince his lover of his loyalty.1 Although he’s addressing her, it’s unlikely that he’s speaking directly to his lover because he sometimes speaks as if he’s away from her in the city, and sometimes as if he’s with her at her home. More likely he’s rehearsing in his mind what he could say. Despite it’s taking the form of an imagined conversation rehearsed in the narrator’s mind, we’re given only the narrator’s side of it. Accordingly, although we can fill in the gaps, the song’s main concern is his thoughts, and by way of them his character.

There are three different ways these thoughts can be interpreted. First, they can be taken to represent the narrator’s genuine feelings. On this view he is honest and prepared to make concessions to his lover. Secondly, he can be seen as mentally rehearsing a series of lies and excuses designed to fool her into believing he can be trusted. Thirdly, both can be the case. It’s the third way which I’ll try to show we have good reason for accepting.

On this third view, the words the narrator uses might reflect both an honest and a scheming side to his nature, and might do so without his being aware that they carry multiple meanings. The song gives us reason to believe there are two separate parts to his consciousness, each operating independently of the other.  However, given the subtlety of the reasoning involved, one might conclude that his scheming side is the more genuine side of his character.

This piece comprises four sections. The first will set out evidence for seeing the narrator as honest. It will be relatively brief because the evidence is to be derived from a consideration of just the surface meanings of his words The second section will then focus on how the narrator’s thoughts can be interpreted as machinations to circumvent his lover’s wishes. This, the longest section, will require laying bare the subtleties in his reasoning together with the manner of its progression. In order to facilitate this there will be separate discussions of each of the five verses and the refrain. The remaining two sections will deal respectively with imagery involving unity and separation and imagery concerning life and death. It’s this latter imagery which gives us reason for seeing the narrator’s mind as divided into honest and dishonest parts.

I The Narrator As Honest

What follows is a brief interpretation of the song which shows the narrator in a sympathetic light. Although the reasoning behind certain assumptions isn’t given here, it will be provided in the next section where it will be more crucial to the points being made.

The narrator clearly believes his lover has reservations about him but won’t tell him precisely why she doesn’t want to pursue a relationship. She won’t, as he puts it, ‘be honest’ with him. His aim is to find a way of winning her round by convincing her of his love which on the present interpretation, is genuine.

Suspecting she distrusts him because he won’t leave ‘the city that never sleeps’, he claims it’s because he’s ‘stranded’ there. He imagines assuring her that he does his best to avoid ‘the Southside’ – presumably the red-light district – although he admits to having lapses. Nevertheless he claims to find the women there repulsive and to suffer when he remembers previous experiences, presumably with them. Whatever these experiences were, he’s adamant that he has nothing to be sorry for. He’s in the city simply because he had to leave his wife, having found life with her to be intolerable.

The two final verses, for reasons which will become apparent in the next section, contain a number of ambiguities. It’s in these verses that the narrator could be imagining he’s still in the city, or imagining he’s with his lover at her home. If the former, it might be that, keen to allay his lover’s qualms, and fearing she intends to end the relationship, he considers leaving the city once and for all even though it will cause him hardship.

However, when he says:

‘I’m here to create the new imperial empire,’

it’s as if he’s speaking from his lover’s home. The ‘new imperial empire’ would be their marriage, and by building it he’s going to make the effort required to make the marriage work. On this account the song ends happily. When he goes on to say he cares for his lover, he really does.

Alternatively, still imagining he’s at her home, he accepts that his presence is painful to her. He imagines telling her that he’ll get the train back and won’t visit any more.

Either way he’d be doing what he genuinely considers best.

II The Narrator As Dishonest

While it’s possible to see the narrator as honest, closer attention to the text will show that his primary concern is to maintain a lifestyle in the city which is inconsistent with his apparent declarations of fidelity. The following verse by verse discussion is aimed at demonstrating his dishonesty and at identifying other negative aspects of his character.

Verse 1

The first instance of apparent dishonesty comes right at the outset when he says he’s,

‘… stranded in the city that never sleeps’.

This seems to conflict with what he says In the fourth verse, where he implies t he can leave immediately on

‘The Southern Pacific leaving at nine forty-five’.

If the train’s ‘leaving’ means leaving the city, the narrator’s clearly being dishonest when he says he’s stranded.

He attempts to mitigate the impropriety of being stuck in a disreputable place by claiming he’s fully aware of the dangers and is intent on avoiding them. There are women, presumably prostitutes, there who give him ‘the creeps’, and he avoids ‘the Southside’ – presumably the haunt of these women. Or so he claims. This too is dishonest, as is apparent from the wording he uses:

Some of these women …’

give him the creeps, and he’s avoiding the Southside

‘… as best I can’.

The clear implication is that there are women who don’t repel him at all, and furthermore that he doesn’t totally avoid the places they frequent.

Apparently realising that his lover would see straight through him, he then changes tack. He considers admitting he’s at fault, but accompanies the admission with an excuse:

‘Lots of things can get in the way when you’re tryin’ to do what’s right’

How pathetic! To blame things getting in the way, rather than oneself, is just to avoid responsibility. In the light of this one suspects he wasn’t trying very hard to do what’s right.

Verse 2

Once again, it seems, the narrator realises that his lover is not going to believe him. Since prevarication has failed, he tries yet another tactic. His thoughts become aggressively defensive:

‘I’m not sorry for nothin’ I’ve done
I’m glad I fought – I only wish we’d won’

Yet again, however, he succeeds only in condemning himself out of his own mouth. It’s absurd for him to say that he’s not sorry he’s failed. He ought to be sorry. He claims to have ‘fought’, presumably against temptation, but if he did fight, he clearly didn’t fight hard enough. Give him a sword and, as is made clear in verse three, he can’t even cut a piece of meat with it. He lost but, as he implicitly acknowledges when he says ‘I wish we’d won’, the loss is not just his. He’s destroyed the prospect of a successful relationship not just for himself but for his lover too.

Doubtless realising that his lover will point this out, he follows up with another excuse. The reason he originally left for the ‘city that never sleeps’, we can glean, is that he hated being at home. From the reference to ‘my woman’ which follows, ‘home’ is presumably his marital home – although one suspects that the narrator is being deliberately ambiguous. If his excuse fails, it would be open to him to claim he meant the home of his parents who are mentioned in the final verse.

The excuse,

‘I never wanted to go back there – I’d rather have died,’

does in fact seem lame. Even if he needed to be away from home, that doesn’t explain why he’s still in the city with its implicitly infamous Southside. Merely never wanting to return home seems a rather whimsical reason for remaining in a place of temptation when a relationship is at stake.

Presumably it’s because he recognises this that he adds ‘I’d rather have died’. It would be in the hope of diminishing the tame effect of ‘I never wanted to go back there’.

Verse 3

a) Home Life

Having made home life his excuse, he’s now be in the position of having to explain what was so bad about it. Accordingly his thoughts turn to producing a description of his wife:

‘My woman got a face like a teddy bear
She’s tossing a baseball bat in the air’

Does he really expect his lover to believe that his wife’s face is a reason for leaving their home? And is there something so terribly reprehensible about playing with a baseball bat? It’s difficult to believe that these criticisms would have the desired effect on his lover even if she could be relied on to overlook the callousness of his remarks.

He probably realises he needs a more relevant criticism for he follows up with:

‘The meat is so tough you can’t cut it with a sword’

This is presumably intended as a criticism of her cooking. Not only is it a ludicrous exaggeration, thus making clear how little reason his home life gives him for remaining in the city, but one might wonder why he didn’t take on the cooking himself if he was dissatisfied with his wife’s.

He ends his description of home life by saying,

‘I’m crashing my car trunk first into the boards’

It’s difficult to see how his bad driving could constitute an excuse for his behaviour. One assumes he’s contemplating using the incident as a way of showing how frustrating his home life is – having failed to come up with any other frustrations which would justify his being in the city.

b) Bitterness

At this point halfway through the third verse, criticism morphs into bitterness:

‘You say my eyes are pretty and my smile is nice
Well I’ll sell it to ya at a reduced price’

While acknowledging his lover’s appreciation of his physical qualities, he uses the occasion to take another dig at his wife. His smile has become devalued, and it’s her fault, since as a result of smiling for her it’s become second-hand.

Not only is the charge ludicrous for seeing a smile in monetary terms, but it’s an indication of the narrator’s hypocritical outlook. If, as it seems, he’s been with other women, then he too has been responsible for any devaluing of his smile.

Verse Four

The fourth verse is exceptionally rich in ideas in that what the narrator says on at least three occasions is open to more than one interpretation. There’s no reason to opt for one interpretation over another. The ambiguities can simply be taken to show the narrator to be entertaining different thoughts simultaneously.

a) First Ambiguity

The first ambiguity arises when the narrator declares

‘Some things are too terrible to be true’

The line could be referring to his lover’s rejection of him, which he’s perhaps now anticipating. That she’s ended the relationship is too terrible for him to accept. Alternatively it could refer to rumours about his behaviour in the city. He’s claiming they’re so terrible they can’t possibly have occurred.

Unfortunately for the narrator, the latter interpretation is the more plausible. The phrase ‘Some things are too terrible’ serves as a reminder that we’ve already had good reason to doubt his fidelity. The word ‘Some’ makes us think back to its occurrence in the second line of the song where the narrator had said:

Some of these women they just give me the creeps’

– and this implied that there are other women he finds to his liking. Whatever it is that’s too terrible to be true, it clearly doesn’t include his consorting with other women.

b) Second Ambiguity

There’s a further ambiguity in the narrator’s follows up:

‘I won’t come here no more if it bothers you’.

It’s unclear whether ‘here’ refers to the city or the lover’s home. He could at least be imagining he’s in either location as her speaks. Either interpretation is consistent with the line which immediately follows:

‘The Southern Pacific leaving at nine forty-five,’

since there’s no indication of the direction of travel. If ‘here’ is the city, he’d be taking the train to her home; and if ‘here’ is her home, he’d be taking the train back to the city.

The ambiguity is significant, though, because it affects his meaning. If ‘here’ refers to the city, he’d apparently be acceding to her request that he shouldn’t live there. And if ‘here’ is referring to her home, he’d apparently be accepting that the relationship should end.

On either account what’s significant for our understanding of the narrator’s character is the addition of ‘if it bothers you’. It shows him to be condescending and therefore still determined to make out that his lover’s at fault for expecting him to leave the city or expecting him not to see her again.

c) Third Ambiguity

The response he imagines giving:

‘… I don’t care
I’m going off into the woods, I’m huntin’ bare’

can also be interpreted in different ways, depending on which interpretation of ‘here’ is being applied.

On the view that he’s acceded to her wishes, he’s making it clear that he’s duplicitously determined to carry on behind her back as before. On the view that his lover has rejected him, he’s claiming he’ll just accept it and carry on in the city as before. In each case we can see this because of a pun on ‘bare’. Since he associates his wife with a teddy bear, we can take ‘bare’ as ‘bear’, and therefore as referring to women. Hunting them will be seeking them out for a relationship.

The fact that either interpretation is consistent with his pursuing a life of infidelity shows just how determined he is to continue pursuing it.

Verse Five

Just as for verse four, this verse too can be interpreted in two ways. And just as for verse four, the effect is to show how rigid the narrator is in his intention to remain unfaithful. He begins:

‘I’m here to create the new imperial empire
I’m going to do whatever circumstances require’

Again, there’s ambiguity about the location of ‘here’. It may mean the city, or it may mean his lover’s home.

On the first interpretation of the couplet the narrator means he’s going to stay in the city whether his lover likes it or not, even if this results in their breaking up. This is what I’ll consider here. The second interpretation, on which the narrator is imagining speaking from his lover’s home, has already been considered in Section I above.

According to the first interpretation the narrator is being true to form. The reason he gives for remaining in the city is ludicrous. He can’t be creating an empire, except perhaps in a metaphorical sense. But the qualification ‘imperial’ suggests that it’s in some sense a real empire he’s referring to. Perhaps realising the weakness of the excuse, the narrator now attempts to support it by saying he’ll be following the advice of his parents:

‘… not to waste my years,’

if he sets about building an empire.

Rather than believing him, it seems more plausible we should see him as employing any ad hoc excuse that comes to mind so that he can continue his life of debauchery.

In the light of this, it would seem that we shouldn’t take seriously his apparently heartfelt declaration,

‘I care so much for you …’.

Not only does the forgoing suggest he cares very little for her, but it contradicts his previously having said:

‘… I don’t care
I’m going off into the woods, I’m huntin’ bare,’

It would seem he doesn’t care for her and, as the bare/bear pun suggests, he’s going looking for other women.

His duplicity again becomes apparent when, in a wonderfully condensed line, he declares:

‘I can’t tell my heart that you’re no good’

He not only has the audacity to accuse his lover of being worthless, but does so under cover of seeming to say he she isn’t.

The Refrain

Unless they’re taken literally, the lines repeated at the end of each verse provide yet more evidence of the narrator’s duplicity:

‘You don’t understand it – my feelings for you
You’d be honest with me if only you knew’

Each time, the narrator clearly starts to make an accusation –  ‘You don’t understand it’ – and then thinks better of it. The singular ‘it’, however, obviously wasn’t intended to refer to the plural ‘feelings’. At the ends of the first two verses the ‘it’ was probably intended to refer to his failure to avoid other women which he tried to justify in the first two verses. In verse three It might refer to his frustration with his wife, and in verses four and  five to his frustration with the addressee. What is clear, though, is that the reference to ‘my feelings for you’ is not because his lover’s feelings are uppermost in his mind, but almost certainly because he realises that what he had been going to say would have sounded implausible.

That the phrase ‘my feelings for you’ is a last minute substitution makes it probable that the line which follows,

‘You’d be honest with me if only you knew’

is also duplicitous. If only she knew – what? The reason he stops short of saying what, one suspects, is because there isn’t anything.

Overall the refrain has the effect of reinforcing in the listener’s mind just how scheming the narrator is.

III. Unity And Separation

The importance of unity in the song becomes apparent when we realise that there is no defined temporal setting. References to the Siamese twins and empire building suggest it’s set in the nineteenth century, while the use of modern idioms and a comment about bad driving place it in the present day. A reference to the Southern Pacific railway could place it in either and so has the effect of uniting the otherwise disparate eras. A major significance of this and other images of unity and separation which permeate the song is that they hint at the structure of the narrator’s mind .

While the narrator is claiming he’s honest, it’s apparent – as argued in Section 2 above – that he’s attempting to fool his lover. Since the same intentions can’t make him simultaneously honest and dishonest, one might expect just one or the other to be true. However, there’s reason for thinking that he’s not just seeming to be honest while being duplicitous, but that he actually is honest while being duplicitous – contradictory though that might seem.

To accommodate this what’s required is that instead of seeing his mind as a genuine unity of consistent thoughts, we see it as a non-genuine unity comprising two sets of mutually inconsistent thoughts. That the narrator’s mind is such a non-genuine unity is lent support by various other instances of non-genuine unities throughout the song.

When the narrator declares:

‘The Siamese twins are coming to town’

he’s unconsciously giving an example of such a false unity. The Siamese twins were two people with, essentially, just the one body. The narrator’s mind  will be likewise be a false unity if it comprises two independent sets of thoughts.

The abnormal unity of the Siamese twins seems to reflect not just the two-fold structure of the narrator’s mind but his idea of what a relationship should be. He expects to be united with the woman of his choice but without making any sacrifice to ensure that the relationship works – or,  in other words, that the unity is genuine.

That it isn’t genuine is reflected in his claim:

‘I’m glad I fought – I only wish we’d won’.

Three times in the line he refers to himself as ‘I’, and only this once in the entire song does he use ‘we’, suggesting that even he sees their unity as unconvincing.

Just as he approves of the unity of the Siamese twins, and of the present state of his relationship , he has no problem with the unwholesome unity of those congregating to see the spectacle:

‘People can’t wait – they’ve gathered around’

Nor, towards the end of the song, does he have any problem with the non-genuine unity imposed on peoples by empire builders when he says:

‘I’m here to create the new imperial empire’

In each case the false unity reflects that of his own mind.

Finally, his complaint about his wife’s cooking,

‘The meat is so tough you can’t cut it with a sword,’

provides an example of meat as a unity which, to be eaten, needs to be separated into slices. The undesirable unity of the meat  might be seen as reflecting the undesirable false unity of his mind.


The narrator’s attitude towards unity and separation isn’t just concerned with things which are unified but which would be better separate. It’s significant that the narrator associates himself with the destruction of what might seem to be wholesome unities. ‘When I left my home,’ he says,

‘… the sky split open wide’.

While he seems to be approving the idea of the sky’s being ‘split open’, perhaps using it to represent new possibilities becoming available, the image is significant in that biblically it represents God’s anger at human’s behaviour. In context this suggests that the narrator’s leaving his home should be seen as the wanton destruction of a genuine unity.3


It’s clear that some things are better as genuine unities and others as divided into their component parts, and we’re left assuming that the narrator’s mind needs to be in the former category. To become a genuine unity, it needs to relinquish its dishonest component so that it no longer comprises two contradictory sets of attitudes.

IV Life and Death

Images of death abound in the narrator’s descriptions of himself and others. These serve to reinforce in the listener’s mind his unhealthy, self-centred outlook and his inability to see that other people might be better than him.

Having announced that he’s stranded in the city, his memories, he says, could ‘strangle‘ him, This would seem to demonstrate a realisation of how near to moral death living in the city has brought him. The suggestion is reinforced by the similarity in sound, and therefore association between, ‘strangled’ and ‘stranded’. Furthermore, since the likelihood is that he isn’t stranded at all, but in the city by choice, the similarity suggests that he isn’t actually concerned by danger of moral death.

The narrator’s affinity with death is further reinforced by his arriving in the city in:

 ‘… the dead of the night’

and in his claim that he’d:

‘… rather have died

than return home. Later he makes himself sound like a mouldering corpse when he refers to advice ‘oozing‘ out of his ears.

It’s not just to himself that he applies images of death. In what seems to be a swipe at those who think differently to him he says he doubts whether:

‘… some people were ever alive‘.

In his wife’s case this is unjustified. Although he speaks of her derisively, when he reports that:

‘She’s tossin’ a baseball bat in the air’,

he’s failing to acknowledge the positive in her. She’s active, and we’ve no reason for taking his description at face value. For all we know she might be practising a skill such as juggling. At any rate, her liveliness contrasts favourably with his own decision to stay put and with his  lack of skill as a driver. The pot is calling the kettle black.


The song provides a presentation of the narrator’s character by way of his thoughts. As a result of an economy in the use of language which enables a statement to have two conflicting meanings, these thoughts simultaneously present him as wanting to appear honest while actually being dishonest.4 Accordingly, if he is honest, we need to judge him as an uneasy combination of loyalty and duplicity. Numerous images involving unity or separation give support to this notion.

Whether or not there’s an honest side to his character, the narrator is persistent in his attempts to find ways of overcoming his lover’s likely  objections. When he encounters an objection he attempts to resolve it. And when his method of so doing spawns a further objection, he attempts to resolve that too. Thus he moves from denying he’s at fault, to making excuses, to aggression,  to casting blame, to bitterness. As he does so, he also shows himself to be callous, condescending, chauvinistic, exploitative and self-centred.


  1. I refer to the woman the narrator is concerned to win over as his lover for want of a more accurate expression. There’s no indication in the song of how long the relationship has been going.
  2. Although the lover has complimented his appearance, in saying his ‘eyes are pretty’ and ‘his smile is nice’, it’s noticeable that he hasn’t responded in kind. He may be dimly aware of this because the language he attributes to her is what one would expect a man to use in complimenting a woman. It’s as if deep down he knows he’s not giving his lover her due. That there’s no sign of any such compliment from him serves to show him up as self-centred. The narrator’s failure to get on with his wife looks as if it’s going to be repeated with his lover.
  3. See Revelation 6.14.
  4. The writing is also economical in that the addressee’s likely responses are neither given nor required. It’s also subtle in that it reflects the rhetorical methods people use when attempting to persuade others.



I don’t think anyone on first hearing the song would realise just how sinister it can appear. At first it seems to be just a love song. The narrator is hoping the object of his affections will meet him, and the song ends with his hope unfulfilled. Closer attention, though, makes it clear that while he’s thinking of arranging a romantic tryst, he’s also thinking about rape, murder and suicide.

Since the song comprises just the narrator’s thoughts, it may be that he’s not actually proposing to meet the woman. While being ‘out in the moonlight alone’ with her sounds romantic, the air, we’re told, is ‘thick and heavy’. The suggestion of thunder makes it more likely he’s merely daydreaming about a romantic meeting. And if he is just daydreaming, it remains possible that he has no clear intention of harming either the woman or himself.

Any such intention would be irrational for his thoughts, by normal standards, are confused. In particular, it’s not certain if he knows whether it’s love, sex  or revenge which is motivating his desire for a meeting.

Murder and suicide

It’s not until the fourth verse that the narrator’s thoughts include murder:

‘Well, I’m preachin’ peace and harmony
The blessings of tranquility
Yet I know when the time is right to strike’

Strike! The word not only has violent implications but these are enhanced by its contrast with ‘harmony’ and ‘tranquility’. The contrast is not just in meaning. The feminine endings of the first two lines, and the long vowels characterising most of the words, create a gentle sound. The effect is to render the short, sharp ‘strike’ all the more harsh, and unexpected.

A further indication that the narrator is thinking of murder is in the very next line,

‘I’ll take you cross the river dear’.

While on one level this may simply be a kind offer, it’s also presumably a reference to the mythological Styx which in Greek mythology provided a border between the lands of the living and the dead. In his assumed role of ferryman we should perhaps see him not only as dispatching the woman to the land of the dead, but himself too. This is supported by the line adapted from Donne, in verse seven:

‘For whom does the bell toll for love? It tolls for you and me’

in that this too suggests that the narrator is contemplating his own death. Whereas Donne has ‘It tolls for thee’, the narrator includes himself, thereby presenting death as a means of uniting himself with his lover.1

Further natural images throughout the song seem to reflect these thoughts about death. In the second verse the flower name ‘Black-eyed Susan’ itself suggests violence to a woman. Poppies, mentioned there too, have a traditional association with death. And the mentions of ‘purple’ and ‘snow’ in ‘purple blossoms soft as snow’ in verse seven have the effect of imbuing new life represented by the blossoms with a cold, funereal feel.

Other natural images include the clouds whose ‘turning crimson’ associates them with blood, and the leaves which fall because they’re dead. The ‘stone’ over which the shadows fall suggests grave stones. In the classical tradition (e.g. Virgil)  ‘cypress trees’ are also associated with death.

In the final verse the natural imagery is directly associated not just with death but, once again, with murder:

‘My pulse is runnin’ through my palm – the sharp hills are rising from
The yellow fields with twisted oaks that groan’.

The hills are ‘sharp’ like knives. They’ve pierced the fields, causing the trees to groan as if they’re dying. In the light of the opening clause the suggestion is that the narrator, in a state of nervous tension causing him to be aware of his pulse, is imagining using the knife on the woman.

New life

The narrator’s dark thoughts don’t have a monopoly on his mental life, however. These are to an extent balanced by references to new life.

While the groaning in the lines just quoted suggests the pain resulting from being stabbed, it can also be associated with the pain of child birth. Romans 8.22 refers to:

 ‘… all creation groaning in this one great act of giving birth’.

The ‘one great act of giving birth’ is the action of everyone – all creation – which is necessary for the spiritual rebirth of the world.

From the opening lines of the song the narrator is aware of the need for the great act of giving birth. It’s rebirth he yearns for when he longs,

‘To hear again the songbird’s sweet melodious tone’

The death associated with impending winter must give way to the new life of spring. The suggestion would be that participating in the great act of giving birth would involve his overcoming his darker thoughts.

In line with this there’s reason to think the narrator sees death as providing an unsatisfactory means of solving his problems. This is suggested by the enigmatic line:

‘The earth and sky that melts with flesh and bone’

The singular ‘melts’ implies he sees the earth and sky as losing their separate identities, perhaps as the effect of the ‘dusky’ light. This amorphous fusion of earth and sky then expands to embrace flesh and bone – the remains of humans after death – so that they become part of a larger and perhaps even more vapid whole. On this account, a unity with his lover in death would be pointless since it would amount to no more than their flesh and bone becoming part of this undifferentiated and valueless whole.2

Religious imagery

That the narrator is aware he has a part to play in the renewal symbolised by the onset of spring is implied in other religious language and imagery, both implicit and explicit. At the same time however his language suggests a tension between a commitment to that renewal and an impulse to further his darker desires.

That he’s:

preachin’ peace and harmony’,

 and what he refers to as:

‘The ‘blessings of tranquility’,

might suggest he’s willing to take on the role of bringing about renewal. Any such spiritual commitment, however, is in tension with his belief that there’s a time for him to ‘strike’.

The same tension is indicated by the use of the word ‘cross’ – ‘across’ – in:

‘I’ll take you cross the river dear’.

Its obvious connotations of sacrifice needed before redemption are in tension with his simultaneously seeing himself in the role of the ferryman, which implies he’s giving in to his desire for revenge.3

The tension is present again when the narrator says:

‘My tears keep flowing to the sea’.

He’s associating his misery with a river. Just as his previous use of the river image had been to represent kindness to the woman (‘I’ll take you cross the river, dear’) while at the same time suggesting his desire to murder, so the image here can be interpreted in conflicting ways. Although he associates the river with his misery, in a number of biblical texts, including Revelation, the river represents life – moral or spiritual life – which requires not giving into, but accepting, misery.4

There’s a similar ambivalence in the use of light imagery. The narrator’s present state of mind is reflected in the near absence of light. Not only is the light ‘dusky’ but it’s still fading. Since throughout the bible light is associated with God, its absence here can be taken as representing the narrator’s dire spiritual state. Nevertheless light is still present in:

‘… mystic glow’.

The implication is that, even in the depths of his despair, whether he realises it or not, there’s still hope.

The conflict is represented again by colour. Whereas the purple of the blossoms seemed to reflect the narrator’s obsession with death, the contrastingly coloured

‘…  petals pink and white, the wind has blown’,

are suggestive of life – and here of spiritual life, since they are blown by the wind, a biblical sign of the Holy Spirit.


An indication of the narrator’s character becomes apparent by way of another image drawn from nature:

‘… the masquerades of birds and bees’.

The narrator seems to be accusing nature of beings dishonest in the way human beings are capable of being dishonest. In so doing, as will become apparent below, he is imposing an aspect of his own personality onto things in nature.

It’s significant that the expression ‘birds and bees’ is often used as a reference to courtship and sexual activity. In using ‘masquerade’ in this context, then, the narrator would be accusing the woman of pretending to be loyal to him while actually giving her attention to someone else. It’s her supposed betrayal of him which starts him thinking about murderous revenge.

The idea is reinforced in the lines:

‘Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief
It takes a thief to catch a thief’

The first line, ‘Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief’, implies that the narrator has rivals for the woman’s affections. It’s taken from the title of an earlier song in which three people love a girl but not as much as the song’s narrator claims to do.5

The second line, ‘It takes a thief to catch a thief’, implies that the narrator has found the woman out because he recognises her behaviour in his own. In announcing this, he is unintentionally admitting his own hypocrisy. He is as guilty of betrayal as she is. Indeed he may even be falsely imposing his own behaviour on her just as he does with the birds and bees when he accuses them of masquerading.

There’s a further instance of the narrator’s dishonesty when he imagines saying to the woman:

‘I know the kinds of things you like’.

While the statement could be taken at face value, it suggests that the meeting he envisages would not be purely romantic. It may be that the narrator’s motives all along  are sexual; he knows what he likes. Furthermore, there may be a hint at the end of the song that if he doesn’t get his way he’s going to take it. The ‘yellow fields’ through which the ‘sharp hills are rising’ are suggestive of rape (rapeseed) and, by way of that, suggestive of the word in its sexual sense.

In the light of the narrator’s own dishonesty and his accusation against the woman, if it’s accurate, the bell which tolls would be tolling for their spiritual deaths as much as for their physical deaths. Without the spiritual renewal the possibility of which is hinted at in his use of religious language, they will have ended up both physically and spiritually dead.


It’s not possible to condemn the narrator outright. The song seems to give us just his thoughts as they range over various possibilities, including murder, suicide, and rape, on the one hand, and acts of kindness and spiritual rebirth on the other. He doesn’t seem capable of coming down on one side or the other, however. Instead his commitment to peace, harmony and tranquillity is mixed up with his belief that there’s a time to ‘strike’ or get revenge. That confusion may be the result of a further confusion in religious outlook. In drawing from both Greek mythology and Revelation, he seems to combine the pre-Christian and the Christian, without acknowledging that the one represents death and the other life.

We don’t know to what extent the narrator is aware of the possibilities for spiritual renewal which are implied by the language he uses. Nor do we know how much he realises that what he presents in the language of romance can be seen as a toying with the possibilities of murder and suicide. His likely uncertainty about these things is reflected in the equally ambivalent characteristics of nature. A funereal purple offsets the youth of blossoms. The light is dusky but accompanied by a mystic glow. Earth and sky are two, yet one, and become one again with flesh and bone. And there’s a groaning which might equally be an effect of birth as of death.6

The impression one gets is that the confusions are capable of positive resolution. The narrator can opt for the ‘mystic glow’ rather than the ‘dusky light’, for Revelation rather than ancient myth, and for ‘peace and harmony’ rather than for ‘striking’. However, by the time the song has ended, his mental state is not sufficiently clear for him to be able to make a choice.


For some reason the official Dylan site has recently replaced the version of the song which appears on Love and Theft, and which is analysed here, with one which has a number of changes. It seems to me that the album version is probably the later of the two. The one which now appears on the website seems inferior. For example it contains the line,

‘Draw the blinds, step outside the door’

The main effect of the line is that it indicates that the characters are inside. However in the sung version the effect is achieved much more economically by simply having the word ‘out’ between ‘me’ and ‘in’ in the line ‘Meet me in the moonlight alone’. This becomes ‘Won’t you meet me out in the moonlight alone?’

Other differences include the addition of the lines:

‘Step up and drop the coin right into the slot
The fading light of sunset glowed
It’s crowded on the narrow road
Who cares whether you forgive me or not’

In comparison with the album version, these seem somewhat clumsy. The word ‘glowed’ seems an unnecessary repetition of ‘glow’ which occurred two lines earlier in ‘mystic glow’. The final line doesn’t really fit with the narrator’s state of mind – he does very much care. The lines which effectively replace it:

‘Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief
It takes a thief to catch a thief’

succeed not only in getting across the fact that the narrator has rivals, but that he’s hypocritically accusing the woman of doing what he himself is doing.

Overall, comparing the two versions enables one to see how good the one on the album is.



  1. Maybe the ungrammatical double use of ‘for’ also indicates that the narrator intends that they are both going to die.
  1. Another example of the narrator’s inability to see differentiating characteristics which lend value is in his description of the fields simply as ‘yellow’. It’s reminiscent of The Great Gatsby in which ‘yellow’ is used to the same effect as in, for example, the ‘yellow cocktail music’. He’s happy for the ‘sharp hills’ to pierce, and one imagines, destroy them.
  1. It’s printed without even an apostrophe in place of the missing ‘a’.
  1. ‘And he showed me a river of water of life, bright as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb’ (Revelation 22.1).
  1. Hoagy Carmichael and Paul Francis Webster Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief, 1945.

Floater (Too Much To Ask)


The song comprises the thoughts of the narrator as his mind passes over events in his life, both past and present.

The narrator is apparently a young man who makes a living by fishing, has a difficult relationship with his boss and possibly a violent one with his father. As the song progresses, we also learn what he thinks about other family members, the local economy, those older men who haven’t left for a better life, and his love life. The character which emerges is far from ideal. Amongst other things he turns out to be bored, myopic, easily angered, violent, pessimistic, prejudiced, lazy and cruel. And he lets us know that while he’s putting up with his existence, he’s lost all hope of improving it.

While there are few positive qualities to balance the negative, it’s easy to recognise in the narrator a perfectly normal human being. And because he’s someone with whom we can relate, we can take the song seriously as an exploration of spiritual and material deficiencies which cause unhappiness.1 We not only become aware of the faults which can bring about loss of hope, but of how these in turn can impinge on the happiness of others.

The piece is divided up into the following sections:

  1. Blindness
  2. Obsession With Death
  3. More Violence
  4. Emerging life
  5. Spiritual Life
  6. Negative Outlook
  7. Old Versus New
  8. Lessons
  9. Excuses For Inactivity
  10. Cruelty

1. Blindness

From the outset the narrator is blind to what’s really the case. Bored, he resigns himself to:

‘Another one of them endless days’.

Yet, the day is not endless. Blinded by the dazzling rays, he fails to realise that their coming down over the window shows the sun to be setting, so that in fact the day is nearing its end.

This inability of the narrator’s to see what’s really the case is present throughout the song. So, when he says about his father that he’s:

‘Never seen him quarrel …’

with his mother, we can assume that he has simply failed to see what should have been obvious. That his father does in fact quarrel with his mother is lent support by the otherwise irrelevant-seeming comment that his father has ‘more lives than a cat’. The implication is that his father is a violent sort, constantly getting into scrapes. This is further backed up by the description of him as a ‘feudal lord’, suggesting an uncompromising desire to dominate, and with his own dealings with his father dealt with below.

This failure to see is not limited to the behaviour of others. It applies to the consequences of the narrator’s own behaviour. Thus when he says he’s:

‘… seen enough heartache and strife’,

he seems oblivious to the fact that he himself, as becomes apparent in the final verse, is a major cause of heartache and strife.

And it applies to his interpretation of events when, in the context of times being hard, the narrator says:

‘We’ll just have to see how it goes’.

As will become apparent, things are unlikely to go well for the narrator.

2. Obsession With Death

While the narrator sees no end to the misery of the day, he does recognise an end. But it’s the ultimate end – annihilation, death:

‘But old, young, age don’t carry weight
It doesn’t matter in the end

His focus on death is especially apparent when he issues a warning:

‘If ever you try to interfere with me or cross my path again
You do so at the peril of your own life’.

Not only does this amount to a threat to take life, but it can be seen as a threat to take his father’s life. This is because the phrase ‘cross my path’, in seeming to treat the addressee as a black cat bringing bad luck, takes up an earlier cat reference. This was to the narrator’s father who, we’re told, has:

‘… more lives than a cat’

Death is again the narrator’s preoccupation when he tells us his hopes are:

‘… buried under tobacco leaves’

– buried, that is, as if they’re a corpse. Death has replaced hope.

3. More Violence

Ironically, the narrator assumes he needs to resort to violence in his own situation. This is despite claiming that the tactic doesn’t work on the ground that the threat to:

‘… strong-arm you, inspire you with fear’

has ‘the opposite effect’.

While ‘the opposite effect’ could mean that it causes him not to be afraid, this is unlikely. Why, if he’s fearless, should he:

‘… keep listenin’ for footsteps’?

It seems more likely that ‘the opposite effect’ will be for him to attack his aggressor. That would be consistent with his later warning that he might retaliate:

‘If you try to interfere with me …
You do so at the peril of your own life’.

That the narrator has a propensity to violence is also apparent in the final verse when he assumes he needs to ‘kick someone out’ rather than to simply ask them to go.

4. Emerging Life

This concern with death is made to seem unduly pessimistic for often where the narrator sees only death, there’s new life emerging. Even the leaves he imagines burying his hopes are beginning ‘to stir’ thereby suggesting that there is hope.


An unconscious awareness of such emerging life is indicated by the narrator’s use of the word ‘come’. ‘Coming’ is a word we often associate with new life or activity, whereas ‘going’ tends to be connected with death. The latter is the case when, in the context of times being held to be hard the narrator says:

‘We’ll just have to see how it goes’.

He means he’ll wait to see what his present way of life turns up. He’s clearly no intention of experimenting with a new one.

However, rather than the sun being said to going down, its rays are said to ‘come(s)’ down, suggesting it’s bringing new life rather than just the death of the day.

‘Come’ is associated with new life again when in the narrator’s family:

‘Things come alive …’.

The implication is that they come alive having previously been inanimate or capable only of dying – ‘they fall flat’.

And the word ‘come’ is used to indicate activity when we’re told :

‘One of the boss’ hangers-on
Comes to call …’

Whereas the narrator’s dismissal of the caller as a ‘hanger-on’ casts the caller as a parasite, with no life of his own, in fact, the opposite is the case. Far from being parasitical, when he ‘comes to call’ he’s actively pursuing his own life. He’s only a hanger-on’ to the very limited extent that he relies on the boss for employment, but that – one would think –  hardly amounts to ground for criticism.

5. Spiritual life

The emergence of new life should have a double significance for the narrator. It not only signifies that he ought to be able to fashion a better material life for himself, but that there’s opportunity for him to resolve spiritual deficiencies in his make-up.

It’s ironic that immediately prior to announcing that his hopes are ‘buried’ the narrator overlooks one sign of hope associated with new life. He remembers:

‘… all the ring-dancin’ Christmas carols on all of the Christmas eves’

The ring-dancing reminds us, through association with hearing ‘the school bell ring’, that the narrator has something to learn.  Since Christmas is obviously associated with birth, the implication would seem to be that this something is the need to acquire a new life. It would seem significant, therefore, that the narrator gets only as far as remembering Christmas eves but falls short of remembering the day itself. It’s as if he’s always just on the verge of new life, but unable to get beyond death. Hence his hopes are buried with the Christmas eves.

The narrator’s failure to associate Christmas with new life is consistent with his failure to notice a spiritual presence in nature. Thus the sun which should enable him to see can be seen to represent the new life associated with Christmas – the son of God.2 The summer breeze – positive when compared with a squall which the narrator pessimistically sees it as a precursor to – could remind us of the Holy Spirit.3

The spiritual gap in his life thus represented is made more obvious when we remember his announcing about his second cousin:

‘I tell myself I could be happy forever with her’

As the last verse will make clear, the manner of his pursuing a relationship with her is unlikely to enable him to ‘be happy forever’ i.e. in spiritual language, to have eternal happiness. The idea of ending a co-existing relationship, which he seems to recognise as a necessary pre-requisite for such happiness, is something he considers ‘too much to ask’.

6. Negative Outlook

The narrator’s failing to notice the capacity things have for life  is matched by a general negative outlook. In the case of the natural world this negativity is not just towards the sun. It applies to the sound of the bees, the activity of the wind and the temperature of the rain.

Sometimes this negativity is conveyed through his choice of language. The narrator disapproves of the sunlight for being ‘dazzling’, but then when the ‘z’ sound of ‘dazzling’ reoccurs in ‘buzzin’, the effect is to transfer his negative attitude towards the sun onto the activity of the bees, so that he seems to resent them too.

The same happens when the ‘z’ sound occurs again in ‘breeze’ so that it’s unsurprising he associates what should be pleasant – it’s a ‘summer breeze’ –  with a squall to be avoided.


Negativity is also apparent in the narrator’s attitude towards the people who have left. It comes out in his derisive use of ‘them’. The expression:

‘… them rebel rivers’

is disdainful, just as:

‘… them endless days’

was disdainful.

Furthermore in saying:

‘They all got out of here any way they could
The cold rain can give you the shivers’

he not only treats the people’s motive as if it merely to escape, but implies their reason for escaping to be no more than a dislike of the weather. Rather than recognise that people might have their own individual reasons for leaving, it would seem he’s imposing on others a trivial and negative concern of his own.

The expression ‘They all got out’ is also an indication of an unrealistically negative view of those who left. The absurd exaggeration seems to imply, unfairly given the lack of any supporting reason, that those who left lack individuality.


The narrator is again unduly negative in uncritically accepting what he’s heard, namely that:

‘… times are hard’.

If they were really hard, one might have expected him to have joined the leavers in trying his luck elsewhere. Instead we once again find him exaggerating in order to provide himself with an excuse for staying put:

‘It don’t bother me – times are hard everywhere’.5

Not only is the claim that times are hard everywhere a ludicrous generalisation, but there are good reasons to doubt that times are hard for the narrator. First, there are signs that food is plentiful. He himself catches a lot of fish, and gives no indication that the catch is ever inadequate.

Secondly, in an attempt to prove that times are hard, he says:

‘You can just follow your nose’,

using the expression in its colloquial sense. Ironically, that same expression taken literally would have made it obvious that times are not hard. If you literally follow your nose, it’ll take you to both warmth, and olfactory pleasure:

 ‘You can smell the pinewood burnin’’.

Not only is there wood for fires, but it’s good quality wood which ‘burns with the bark still on’.

7. Old Versus New

That there is life, and that the narrator could achieve it, is brought out by the contrasts between old and new on the one hand, and young and old on the other. On one level the old is associated with death and the new with the life which replaces it. So, the new grove of trees is clearly better than the old one because the wood burns more effectively. And the new clothes that the grandmother makes from old cloth would clearly be better than just the old cloth itself.

While the narrator recognises the advantages of the new over the old, he seems to assume the young are similarly superior to the old. This is despite initially seeming to be neutral:

‘But old, young, age don’t carry weight’

He’s giving the impression of having weighed up the respective advantages of youth and age and of coming down neither on one side nor the other. If this is deliberate, it’s disingenuous. He’s fooling himself. When he says ‘age don’t carry weight’, this more naturally refers to advanced age, rather than youth. He’s really claiming that years, and the experience which comes with them, count for nothing. This is borne out by his blaming those older than himself for the breakdown in relationships with the relatively young:

‘The old men … get
On bad terms with the younger men’

Here it seems likely he’s casting blame on his father, whom he refers to as ‘my old man’, for the breakdown of their relationship .

If the narrator is assuming that the young have an advantage over the old, it would seem to be confined to his own case. That with respect to others he can take the opposite line becomes apparent when he describes a classroom incident.5

8. Lessons

The classroom incident involves two ironies.

First the narrator wrongly assumes that the older person, the teacher, is the only one he can learn from. This is apparent when, in a rare positive statement, he says:

‘Gotta get up near the teacher if you can
If you wanna learn anything’

The context would appear to be a minor disturbance in a lesson brought about by a boy’s making insulting comments about a girl’s appearance:

‘… “You got a poor complexion.
It doesn’t give your appearance a very youthful touch”’

Perhaps because it’s an English lesson, and because the boy might just be incompetently trying to chat the girl up, the narrator ironically dismisses the warring pair as Romeo and Juliet. Instead of being dismissively glib, however, he would have done better to learn from the girl’s response:

‘… ‘Why don’t you just shove off
If it bothers you so much’’

The retort is appropriate. Not only did the boy deserve to be put down, but – given that the narrator has nothing more to say about it – it seems likely that the girl did enough to resolve the incident. There’s no sign, even, that an intervention from the teacher has been needed.

The second irony lies in the fact that, although he isn’t aware of it, in a sense the boy is right when he says the girl’s appearance lacks ‘a youthful touch’. She acts with un-youthful maturity in making an immediate and decisive response. In the final verse we find a comparably immediate and decisive response from the older narrator to be woefully lacking. It’s the young girl’s response, then, that the narrator would have done well to learn from instead of complaining about not having been able to hear the older teacher.

9. Excuses For Inactivity

It’s probably the narrator’s proclivity for inaction which accounts for the song’s title Floater. Sometimes this inactivity seems to be caused by laziness. His assertion that it’s:

‘… stupid
To get into any kind of wind’

would appear to be an excuse for not working since the phrase ‘any kind of’ would seem to cover even an innocuous summer breeze.

And while some of the inhabitants are active:

‘They went down the Ohio, the Cumberland, the Tennessee
All the rest of them rebel rivers’,

the narrator, treats going ‘down’ the rivers as obviously bad, just as he treated the sun’s coming ‘down’ as bad when in so doing it was actively providing the very end to the day he wanted. The disparaging tone seems intended to justify his not joining them.

The narrator’s laziness is made particularly clear when he’s compared with the boy. The girl tells the boy to leave her alone if her appearance ‘bothers’ him. The word ‘bothers’ reminds us that the narrator uses the same word when describing his response to those who say times are hard:

‘It don’t bother me …’

Had times actually been hard, it should have bothered him. Whereas the boy ought to have been less bothered than he is, the narrator ought to have been more bothered. He uses his not being bothered as an excuse for doing nothing.

10. Cruelty

Not all the narrator’s inactivity can be attributed to laziness, though. This becomes apparent in the final verse:

‘It’s not always easy kicking someone out
Gotta wait a while – it can be an unpleasant task
Sometimes somebody wants you to give something up
And tears or not, it’s too much to ask’.

What’s immediately noticeable in this appeal for sympathy is the narrator’s apparently deliberate vagueness. While the prefix ‘some’ occurs no less than four times in as many lines –  ‘someone’, ‘sometimes’, ‘somebody’, ‘something’ – we aren’t told who is being referred to, what the ‘something’ is, or when they might want it to be given up. In choosing to use vague expressions, the narrator might seem to be deliberately masking the truth.

If so, he’s not masking it well. It’s seems probable that the ‘someone’ and the ‘somebody’ refer to different people. Despite his choice of these cold, distancing words, the only plausible candidates would seem to be the second cousin he claims to be in love with and another woman the narrator is actually, or also, living with. One of the two, presumably the one he’s not in love with, is in danger of being ‘kicked out’ at the behest of the other.

We’ve seen the narrator making excuses for inaction before so it’s not surprising to find him doing the same again. Despite the tears of one, or perhaps both, of the women, he attempts to justify maintaining a relationship with them both. It’s necessary to wait before acting, he claims, in order to spare himself unpleasantness, and yet only two lines later the need to wait has been replaced by the absence of a need to act at all. Absurdly, he’s presenting a slide from delay to total inaction as if the two are one and the same.

A second absurdity is the implication that waiting a while will help if a task is unpleasant. It won’t; it’s merely procrastinating. What’s worse is that the inadequacy of his reasons for inaction leads one to suspect that it’s not really the unpleasantness of the task of eviction that’s preventing him from performing it, but his selfish unwillingness to give up one of women. The suspicion is reinforced when, despite the distress he’s causing, he cruelly and without any attempt at justifying his response dismisses what’s required of him as ‘too much to ask’.


The final verse alone shows the narrator to be prone to violence, selfish, vacillating, inert, dissembling and cruel. Several of these traits are exemplified elsewhere in the song, thus showing how deeply embedded in his character are the causes of the unhappiness he brings on himself and others. Thus the violent tendency shown here is apparent in his earlier threatening to take someone’s life, the inertia in his failure to follow the example of others in leaving for a better life, and his dissembling in his giving the weather as a reason why others left for a new life.

The narrator’s need for a new life is made clear by reference to both material and spiritual impoverishment. Materially he’s bored by what he sees as the ‘endless days’. At the same time he’s oppressed at work and by disagreements with his father. It would seem he’d be materially better off if he followed the example of others in leaving to find a new life elsewhere. Spiritually, he’s bereft. He treats those senior to him with contempt, he sees violence as a way of resolving disagreements, and he causes unhappiness to one or more women in his life. His spiritual state is symbolised by his blindness and obsession with death. That a new material existence is possible is made apparent by the example of the young men who have left to find one. That a new spiritual life is possible is made clear through numerous ironies. Instead of benefitting from the sun, a cause of regeneration, he’s blinded by it. Instead of associating Christmas eves with new spiritual life, his memories of them get buried. And for him, the summer breeze, instead of being a sign of spiritual ubiquity, is just the precursor of a squall. There’s even a willingness to champion the new or young against the old which doesn’t get carried over into his own life.

One imagines the narrator will remain unhappy in his love life, as will the women involved – unless, that is, he gets rid of the character traits which prevented his ending a relationship. In particular it’s his affinity with violence which blinds him to the true nature of his task. Had he seen it as a matter of asking someone to go, rather than of kicking them out, he might have felt able to act. Also responsible is a proclivity for finding excuses, and so his using ‘unpleasantness’ as a reason for waiting awhile. And it’s laziness which enables him to take the easy way out of translating waiting awhile into not acting at all.



1. I stress that I use the term ‘spiritual’ in an essentially secular sense to mean moral. ‘Spiritual’ seems more appropriate because the song brings out the moral shortcomings of the narrator’s character with the help of allusions involving religious ideas. It’s not to suggest that the spiritual is concerned with anything other than the way the narrator runs his life.

The word ‘material’ is used in a slightly wider sense than usual to mean, in essence, non-moral. The narrator’s material wellbeing would therefore cover things like his family relationships and lifestyle as distinct from, say, the goods he possesses.


2. The sun appears in numerous Dylan songs in contexts which imply it’s to be associated with the Son. Dylan is continuing a tradition whose followers include the metaphysical poets Donne and Herbert who both employ a sun/Son pun. Thus Herbert in The Sonne:

‘To parents issue and the sunnes bright starre!
A sonne is light and fruit; a fruitfull flame
Chasing the fathers dimnesse, carri’d farre’

 and Donne in Hymn to God the Father:

‘But swear by thyself, that at my death thy Son
Shall shine as he shines now’


3. Poe in Spirits of the Dead is one of many poets who, like Dylan, follow the biblical tradition of associating breeze with God:

‘The breeze—the breath of God—is still—
And the mist upon the hill,
Shadowy—shadowy—yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token—
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!’

Leonard Cohen does the same in Light as the Breeze:

‘She stands before you naked
you can see it, you can taste it
but she comes to you light as the breeze
You can drink it or you can nurse it
it don’t matter how you worship
as long as you’re
down on your knees.’


4. The need to replace the old with the new, where the new is what is brought by Christ, is a major theme of John’s gospel. Right at the beginning there are four stories used to illustrate this theme. These are the marriage feast at Cana, the raising of Jairus’ daughter, the woman at the well, and the feeding of the five thousand.


5. The narrator’s proclivity for exaggeration is also present in verse thirteen where he threatens:

‘If you ever try to interfere with me or cross my path again
You do so at the peril of your own  life’

The presence of ‘own’ before ‘life’ suggests that the narrator is exaggerating the danger to himself by implying that he sees his own life as threatened, and that this justifies his threatening the life of the addressee. In fact being interfered with or having your path crossed do not amount to your life being threatened.




Lonesome Day Blues


The narrator is sitting alone, letting things pass through his mind.1 Memories alluded to in the past tense let us know what his situation is, while the remainder make us privy to his mental processes as they occur. These processes enable us to acquire insight into his character. A feature of the song is its use of phrases drawn from other works, phrases which take on different meanings in their new context. By attending to these differences in meaning, we’re able to gain further insight into the narrator’s character.

The song concerns the narrator’s relationship with two women. One is the narrator’s main interest, a woman he’s left, and who in consequence is upset. The other is Samantha Brown, a woman with whom he has a short-term relationship which comes to nothing. To that extent this relationship is the counterpart of the one between the woman the narrator left and her ‘lover-man’. And just as the narrator finishes with Samantha Brown ‘after four or five months’, so the woman he left finishes with the ‘lover-man’, something we can infer from the final verse’s telling us that she’s ‘all by herself’.

By the end of the song we find that the narrator has decided to return to her. Along the way he, often unintentionally, alerts us to the thoughts and feelings which motivated this decision. It’s necessary to read between the lines because, although the song is a monologue, there are implications he seems unaware of in what he says.

The Woman as the Defeated

It’s only in the final verse that we learn that the narrator, having previously left his lover, now intends to return to her. His attitude towards her is filled out in the immediately preceding verse. Here he says he’s going to:

‘… spare the defeated …’,

‘… teach peace to the conquered’


‘… tame the proud’.

In the context of the song, the verse only makes sense if it’s seen as applying to the woman. The narrator would be seeing her as ‘defeated’ in having to accept him as the only alternative to not having a lover at all. To that extent she’d have been ‘conquered’ by him. That he might see her as ‘proud’ is quite likely from his description of her as ‘standing in the door’ as if she was refusing to be cowed by his departure. His intention, then, is to revive the relationship while somewhat misogynistically getting her to unquestioningly accept his will and a subordinate role in the relationship.

In addition to misogyny one might criticise the narrator for cruelty, a trait brought out by his choice of language. The phrases just quoted  are militaristic – militaristic metaphors adapted from descriptions used in a literal way by Virgil.2 The metaphors suggest he sees his relationship with the woman as a battle. Since he’s well aware of the consequences of warfare, having already told us that his ‘brother got killed in the war’, he must realise that his ‘defeat’ of the woman is tantamount to her death, albeit in a non-literal sense. This makes his intention to ‘spare the defeated’ disingenuous. If you know someone is dead, even metaphorically, your intention to ‘spare’ them cannot be as magnanimous as it sounds.

Further Bellicosity

That the narrator is cruel in his attitude to the woman is further supported by his earlier use of militaristic ideas in the verse about ‘my captain’. The captain, despite his training and having been ‘decorated’, is callous:

‘He’s not sentimental – don’t bother him at all
How many of his pals have been killed’.

The use of ‘my’ before ‘captain’ – which doesn’t appear in the Junichi Saga account on which these lines are based – suggests that the captain represents the attitudes of the narrator.3 The latter admires the captain for his valour, seeing him as the antithesis of the woman’s ‘lover-man’ whom he dismisses as ‘a coward’.

And that the narrator is to be seen as cruel is further reinforced by the fact that he dismisses concern about comrades’ deaths in battle as sentimentality. Consistency would demand he be equally unemotional even about his own brother’s death, as well as the metaphorical death of the woman. And while he criticises the woman’s ‘lover-man as ungentlemanly, rotten and cowardly, at least it’s a ‘barren field’ he associates with the ‘lover-man’ and not a battlefield.4 The ‘lover-man’ is not as cruel as his critic.

The narrator can perhaps also be criticised for adopting a gung-ho attitude towards the woman. The second line of verse ten adds the word ‘boys’ to the first-line equivalent as if the narrator is imagining he’s making a rousing speech:

‘I’m gonna spare the defeated, boys, I’m going to speak to the crowd’

Whereas the first line, without ‘boys’, seemed to be a statement of intention, the second-line version makes him seem to be boasting to his troops about anticipated success in the aftermath of battle. Literally, however, the boast is about something which, one would have thought, should be a private matter between him and the woman.5

Attitude to Death

The narrator’s inappropriate sympathy with the captain’s response to death in battle would seem to be a result of his confusing different senses of words. He fails to notice a subtle distinction in the meaning of ‘got’ in:

‘… my brother got killed in the war’

compared with its meaning in:

‘My sister, she ran off and got married’.

When you get killed, it’s something which just happens to you. But when you get married, you do it intentionally. In not making the distinction between active and passive behaviour here, the narrator makes getting killed in battle a reprehensible act on a par (in his eyes) with running off and getting married. Absurdly he seems to be as condemnatory of his brother as of his sister.

Just as he fails to distinguish between two senses of ‘got’, he also seems to confuse different senses of the word ‘left’ in:

‘… I left my long-time darlin’’


‘My pa he died and left me’.

His father didn’t leave him in the way he left the woman. While the narrator chose to leave the woman, his father’s leaving him was the accidental accompaniment to dying. Again, the narrator seems unable able to distinguish between meanings associated with activity and passivity. As a result he fails to treat dying as a misfortune and is able to condemn as sentimental a natural and appropriate response to death, including the metaphorical death of the woman.


With respect to Samantha Brown, the person who briefly lodges with him, the narrator says that he:

‘… never slept with her even once’.

While he might seem to be seeking admiration for his self-control, the announcement might also suggest that he’s really only interested in the woman he left.

However the narrator may not be being as selfless as he’s making out. The word ‘even’ in ‘even once’ doesn’t appear in Confessions of a Yakuza, the origin of the quotation, and it makes all the difference.6 The addition of ‘even’ suggests that the narrator would have slept with Samantha Brown if he could, and not just once either. If that’s the case, we might wonder why he didn’t.

The answer may be that the narrator is inordinately inactive to the extent that he may not even have made an effort to get to know her. That inactivity might be the cause of the narrator’s failure to sleep with his lodger is suggested by the word ‘never’ in ‘never slept with her’. It reminds us of two other occasions where ‘never’ appears. On each occasion it suggests hopelessness, as if the narrator sees improving his lot as beyond his control.

First, about his sister, he says that following her marriage she:

Never was heard of any more’.

While the narrator might want us to think that the sister failed to re-establish contact, we’re entitled to wonder if the remissness wasn’t on his part. Why did he just wait to hear from her instead of attempting to get in touch? It would seem he’s waiting for things to happen instead of pro-actively making them happen.

The line just quoted is based on one from Huckleberry Finn:

 ‘… my sister Mary Ann run off and got married and never was heard of no more, and Bill went to hunt them and he warn’t heard of no more’7

However, the song’s use of the phrase ‘never was heard of no more’ achieves something different to the novel’s. In the song, the phrase has the effect of highlighting something reprehensible about the narrator which the novel’s doesn’t about Huck. Unlike with the narrator, we know the latter is not blasé about the disappearance of the sister since he points out that an attempt was made to find her. The narrator doesn’t even begin to think that looking for his sister might be worthwhile.

The second occasion when the word ‘never’ occurs in a context which suggests lethargy is when, on hearing the wind seeming to be whispering to him, the narrator laments:

‘I tell myself something’s comin’
But it never does’.

It seems likely that the reason nothing arrives is because of the narrator’s inaction. Things don’t happen just because you wait for them to happen. Again the narrator is just assuming that it’s not worth acting.

Further Inactivity

The narrator’s inaction in ‘never’ sleeping with Samantha Brown, not contacting his sister, and not making things happen are complemented by the fact that even when he does do anything, what he does involves hardly any physical activity.

In verse six he’s driving, an activity involving more sitting. It’s true that when he’s driving he’s making some progress. He’s:

‘… forty miles from the mill’.

Even the limited activity involved in driving is reducing the metaphorical distance separating him from a solution to his problem. It’s getting reduced  by forty miles from the original million miles  – if we see ‘mill’ as being short for ‘million’.

However, forty, compared to a million, is not much. It’s clear that the narrator needs to do something more drastic.

He gets as far as setting radio stations – but even the word ‘settin’’ reminds us of his sedentariness in being uncomfortably similar to ‘sitting’. He changes gear, but this only involves ‘droppin’ the car into overdrive, ‘dropping’ doubtless being appealing because it involves no exertion. And while he wishes his mother were still alive, wishing is hardly strenuous and about as likely to be effective.

The failure of the narrator to physically act is further apparent when he says of the weather that it’s:

‘… not fit for man or beast’

– this suggesting he’d rather sit inside than venture out of doors. That he’s making a petty excuse is emphasised by his subsequently referring to his rival as ‘your lover-man’. If the weather is fit for the lover-man’ it should be fit for any ‘man or beast’ to go out in, including the narrator.

Others’ Activity

All this contrasts with the activity of others. The dancers in verse two are:

‘… doing the double shuffle, throwin’ sand on the floor’

 – their ‘double shuffle’ contrasting with the narrator’s not sleeping with Samantha Brown ‘even once’.

His sister is active in that she:

‘… ran off and got married’.

And the narrator’s rival is actively:

 ‘… comin’ across the barren field’.8

It’s notable that while he is ‘just sittin’ here thinking’, the woman is remembered as:

‘… standing in the door’.

While standing isn’t particularly active, it does suggest that the woman, unlike the narrator, is at least ready for action and accordingly is unlikely to let pass the opportunity for a new relationship.

Errors of Judgement

Before he changes tack and becomes active, the narrator’s approach to life is lacking in other ways. He claims that it’s:

‘Funny how the things you have the hardest time parting with
Are the things you need the least’.

That is obviously not the case. It seems to be an attempt to brainwash himself into believing he’d be better off without the woman. But he isn’t. That he needs her is suggested by the references to loneliness without her which appear in the title and the opening lines of the song.

Since he’s lonely without her, she doesn’t count among ‘the things you need the least’.  And that he’s having a hard time is clear from his failure to have a close relationship with Samantha Brown.

Not only does he admit to having ‘never slept’ with Samantha Brown, but he seems unintentionally to use other phrases which, albeit in different contexts, have sexual connotations – the lover man’s ‘comin’ and the narrator’s trying to ‘make out’ what the wind was whispering. The terms suggest that deep down it’s the lack of a sexual relationship which makes him both need the woman and have a hard time without her.

That he is wrong in holding that ‘the things you have the hardest time parting with / are the things you need the least’ is further established by his decision to go back to the woman.

It’s not only in his own case that the claim just quoted proves to be wrong, however. Her standing in the doorway when he left suggests she had a hard time parting from him. And that she too has an unsatisfactory relationship with someone else – the ‘lover-man’ – suggests that she needs him. Furthermore, just as he needs her for the sex he didn’t get with Samantha Brown, so (as he sees it) she needs him for sex. As he puts it, in the rather patronising way which ought in fact to apply to them both:

‘You can’t make love all by yourself’.

In neither his own case, then, nor hers is he at all reliable when he says that what you have the hardest time parting with is what you need the least.

Subconscious Knowledge

The narrator seems feckless when he responds to the wind’s whispering by saying:

‘I tell myself something’s comin’
But it never does’.

The fact that he needs to tell himself something’s coming suggests that, deep down, he knows that something isn’t coming.9 However, this is not his final response since the wind seems to represent his subconscious mind urging him to resolve his problems by acting. It’s after he hears the wind that he takes the decision to return to the woman. Having taken the decision, the wind no longer seems to be whispering, suggesting that his subconscious is now at peace. He still hears the effect of the wind:

‘… the leaves are rustlin’ in the wood …’,

but it’s no longer needed to urge him to action.

The source of the lines concerning the wind’s whispering and the leaves rustling is Huckleberry Finn, but again Dylan uses them to different effect. In the novel they occur as part of a single sentence and concern the same time.10 Dylan reverses the order and separates them in time, the whispering occurring ‘last night’ whereas the leaves ‘are’ rustling. The intervening period has allowed him time to take the decision to act.

There is a further effect of the wind in that:

‘… things are fallin’ off of the shelf’.

Again the narrator’s subconscious seems involved for at face value the observation seems too inconsequential to seem worth making. However, it perhaps shows that the narrator sees himself as saving the woman from being, in wording consistent with his earlier misogyny, ‘on the shelf’.


The song provides an insight into human nature. It does so by focusing on the thoughts of the narrator up to his decision to return to the woman he’s left. We’re thus able to discern his motivations which include the prospect of a sexual relationship and a desire to end his loneliness.

It’s his faults that dominate the song, however. We discover him to be cruel, misogynistic, condemnatory of others, fantasising, self-centred, patronising and prone to making errors of judgement. He’s also unduly lethargic, and that he eventually decides to act is a result of subconscious unease rather than any conscious thought on his part.




  1. The title, opening lines and theme of returning to an unhappy former lover are apparently inspired by In the McTell song, Lonesome Day Blues (co-written by McTell and Ruby Glaze). In this both the narrator and the woman predict that the latter will return after he, and perhaps the woman, become lonely. In Dylan’s song the narrator is already lonely. The implication in both songs seems to be that it’s selfishness rather than love which motivates the narrator’s return. Dylan, however, provides a much broader account of his narrator’s thoughts and of the subtleties of his character.
  1. Virgil, Aeneid, Bk 6, tr. Mandelbaum, 1971
  1. Junichi Saga, Confessions of a Yakuza, p.243. Saga has ‘There was nothing sentimental about him – it didn’t bother him at all that some of his pals had been killed. he said that he’d been given any number of decorations …’
  1. The poet Langston Hughes uses the line ‘Life is a barren field’ in his short poem Dreams. Dylan’s narrator might be thinking that life without the woman is pointless.
  1. In Summer Days the narrator has a similarly immature attitude to driving fast, and imagines himself showing off his car’s abilities in a speech in which he addresses his hearers as ‘boys’.
  1. Junichi Saga, Confessions of a Yakuza, p.208. Saga has ‘I don’t know how it looked to other people, but I never even slept with her – not once’. Dylan has removed ‘even’ from before ‘slept’, placing it immediately before ‘once’. Whereas Saga’s character is belittling sleeping with someone, Dylan’s is regretting that it didn’t happen.
  1. Mark Twain, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Ch.1
  1. That it’s sand which is being thrown on the floor suggests that, unlike the narrator, the dancers are putting their time – represented by sand – to good use. The narrator wastes time when he has a hard time parting with things he doesn’t need.
  1. The final line of verse six, ‘I wish my mother was still alive’ is sometimes replaced by:‘I’m tellin’ myself that I’m still alive’. Again the fact that the narrator sees it necessary to tell himself something, suggests that deep down he realises that it’s not really the case. His inactivity has the consequence that he’s not really alive in any meaningful sense.
  2. Mark Twain, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Ch.1, has: ‘The stars were shining, and the leaves rustled in the woods ever so mournful; and I heard an owl, away off, who-whooing about somebody that was dead, and a whippowill and a dog crying about somebody that was going to die; and the wind was trying to whisper something to me, and I couldn’t make out what it was, and so it made the cold shivers run over me.



Bye And Bye


Far from being the sweet, romantic song the tune suggests, the song is about a man on the verge of murdering his family.

There are a number of similarities with Summer Days suggesting that the songs share the same narrator. Like that song Bye and Bye concerns the narrator’s unsuccessful relationship, and the theme of repeating the past. We again have his memories of different stages of the relationship – here beginning with his initial interest in the woman before going on to recount his disillusionment, jealousy and eventual madness. As time moves on, we see the narrator has become increasingly unhappy.  His initial romantic intoxication, characterised by the exuberant energy of ‘paintin’ the town’ and freely ‘swingin’ my partner around’, gives way to a constrained ‘scufflin’’ and  shufflin’’ and the pain implied by ‘walkin’ on briars’. Eventually movement all but ceases – he’s ‘rollin’ slow’, and his destination is death.

Something goes wrong in the relationship. The precise extent to which each person is responsible is unclear, but it transpires that the narrator is unfaithful and that, in his eyes, the woman is too.

Along the way it’s implied that he and the woman get married and have a child. The extra detail of the child, not present in Summer Days, makes the decision to kill all the more horrifying.

The Title

A number of things are significant about the title and its recurrence in the first and fourth lines of the song.

First, the expression is normally spelt ‘by and by’, and it’s used in connection with something expected to happen at some vague point in the future. The ‘e’ on the end of ‘bye’, as it’s spelt here, reminds us of ‘’bye’, the abbreviation of goodbye, and accordingly it’s pertinent in a dark way to the narrator’s intentions. He’s planning a goodbye to his wife and child, and perhaps his own goodbye to the world.

The phrase is additionally relevant in its normal sense, though. The song looks back on the past and forward to the future from the narrator’s standpoint in the present. The phrase’s occurrence at the beginning of the first and fourth lines shows the narrator not only remembering the past, but having gone back in memory to a time preceding the events he’s recalling – a time from which his earlier self can anticipate those things which (from the standpoint of the present) have already happened.

It might seem at first as if the narrator is presenting the memories in reverse order:

‘Bye and bye, I’m breathin’ a lover’s sigh’


‘Bye and bye, on you I’m casting my eye’

The reason is that one would expect the hopeless infatuation represented by the lover’s sigh to occur after the narrator’s first casting his eye on the woman. However, the majority of the song is presented in chronological order, and so one might expect the same to be true of these two lines. If so, that would tell us something about the narrator. It would suggest that the lover’s sigh is false. The sigh is perhaps no more than an indication of wishful thinking as the romantically inclined narrator imagines a situation which at best will exist at some undefined time – ‘by and by’. If so, this would make his position even more ludicrous than that of a medieval courtly lover who would at least have had a particular woman in mind. Such a lack of realism might help explain the failure of the subsequent relationship.

The Future

Just as he looks back beyond the past events he’s focusing on, the narrator also propels himself into the future, and then even further to a standpoint from which he can look back on that future:

‘… the future for me is already a thing of the past’.

One thing he means is that there’s no chance of his having the future he’d once envisaged with the woman. But the language he uses to say this seems to make him unduly pessimistic in having him commit himself to a pre-determined future. By confusing the future with the past, so that both are treated as settled, he denies himself any chance of future success.

Not only is it absurd that the narrator is capable of imagining a future where there isn’t one while treating the real future as non-existent – ‘a thing of the past’, but his outlook is inconsistent. This is because in the final verse he goes on to consider what he’s in fact going to do in the future. Planning the murder his family requires him to be treating the future as in his control.


The narrator becomes desperate. It’s a desperate optimism which causes him to say in verse four:

‘I’m tellin’ myself I found true happiness
That I’ve still got a dream that hasn’t been repossessed’.

This too might be inconsistent in that the optimism clashes with the pessimism which is about to drive him to seeing the future as ‘a thing of the past’.

That the optimism is desperate is shown by the lines being full of uncertainty. The phrase ‘I’m tellin’ myself’ suggests that at the time he has in mind he has no belief in what he’s saying. Why otherwise would he need to ‘tell himself’? Furthermore, saying ‘‘I found’ true happiness, rather than ‘I have found’, makes it clear that the narrator considers, even at the time he’s recalling, any happiness to have gone. And even though the ‘I’ve’ of ‘I’ve got a dream’ suggests he was still clinging on to hope, he’s implicitly admitting that what he had was nothing more than a dream.

Where The Wild Roses Grow

The narrator’s announcement that he’s going ‘where the wild roses grow’ is sinister. The expression appears in the Nick Cave song of that title, itself based on a traditional song. It concerns a narrator who murders his sweetheart.

The present case is worse. Not only does it seem that the narrator has married the woman, but that they have had a child. This is implied when the narrator seems to present his behaviour from the child’s point of view:

‘Papa gone mad, mamma, she’s feeling sad’

We have the child’s view that its father has ‘gone mad’, the use of ‘Papa’ and ‘mamma’ making it unlikely that the narrator’s is referring to his own parents.

This madness, it seems, gives rise to the narrator’s stated intention to ‘baptise you in fire’. Whereas in Summer Days it was unclear what the place was which the narrator intended to set on fire, from the present song it would seem it was the woman’s own place – and presumably with both her and the child in it. Whereas in Summer Days we couldn’t be certain that the narrator really intended to carry out his threat, here his madness suggests that he does. The intention seems even worse however, since along with the woman, the child too will be burnt to death. That that’s the case is reinforced by the use of the word ‘baptise’ in ‘baptise you in fire’ – baptism normally being a ceremony involving children.1

The narrator claims that his murderous action will amount to his establishing his rule through civil war. But since civil war involves a state turning on itself, it seems he recognises that his asserting his control will be at the expense of himself. He’ll have destroyed the family of which he himself is a part. His claim that ‘the future for me is already a thing of the past’ suggests that he intends all three of them to burn to death. But even if he doesn’t intend to die as well, and even if he gets away with the crime, he’ll nevertheless have ruined his own future.


Whether or not the narrator anticipates his own death, he perversely sees his act of murder as demonstrating how:

‘… loyal and true …’

he is. Why he should think this is unclear. He may have in mind the woman’s adulterousness and be contrasting it with what he takes to be his own loyalty to her. That he considers her to have been unfaithful can be divined from the final verse in which the narrator announces he’s taking measures to ensure she ‘can sin no more’. That her ‘sin’ is adultery is apparent in that, ironically given the narrator’s intention, the phrase is one used by Christ to an adulteress after he’d rescued her from a murderous mob (John 8.1-11).

If the narrator is implying he has been ‘loyal and true’, he’s being disingenuous. This is apparent for two reasons. First his choice of the expression ‘swingin’ my partner around’ hints at extra-marital sexual activity. And then, independently of that, there’s the relationship between the line in which this phrase appears:

‘I’m paintin’ the town – swinging my partner around’

and the last line of the same verse:

‘I’m paintin’ the town – making my last go-round’

One might have thought that the partner is the woman who becomes his wife. But since painting the town involves both the partner and his ‘last go-round’ – a last sexual liaison – it would seem that it would have to be someone else. He’s having what he intends to be a last fling before settling down.

Much of what else he says can be interpreted in the light of this. He’s anxious not to be discovered being unfaithful so is:

‘… watchin’ the roads’.

And fearing that someone might tell the woman about his disloyalty, he comforts himself with the thought:

‘ I know who I can depend on, I know who to trust’

He may even be uncertain about whether or not he should give up his current philandering lifestyle:

‘I’m not even acquainted with my own desires’

The wording implies an implicit contrast with Rosalind in As You Like It who does ‘have acquaintance with my own desires’. Rosalind is loyal.2

There’s a further reason for thinking the narrator to be disloyal. While the reference to a last go-round might suggest he recognises that his past lifestyle has come to an end, that this is so is both supported and contradicted by his subsequent assertion that:

‘… the future for me is already a thing of the past’.

On the one hand, it seems to be saying that the past is over and done with – not therefore to be repeated. On the other it seems to be saying that in unifying future and past his future now is a repetition of his past. In other words he’s gone back to being unfaithful.

Positive Characteristics

Although the intended murder is terrible, the narrator is not to be condemned outright. First, we have reason to believe it’s planned at a time when the narrator isn’t in his right mind. He does it when, in the wording of the child, he’s ‘gone mad’.

In fact the narrator is presented as a realistic, rounded character with virtues to counteract his vices. He seems, for example, aware that his original outlook at the beginning of the relationship is unrealistic, the use of the derogatory phrase ‘sugar-coated rhyme’ implying a critical attitude towards his earlier self. He‘s come to realise he was being overly romantic and therefore unrealistic in his expectations.

In addition, despite not knowing what he wants once the relationship becomes rocky, he attempts to save it. If we take him at his word, he does everything he can – ‘all I know’ – to make a success of it. While in practice this doesn’t seem to amount to much, he at least tries to convince himself he’s ‘found true happiness’ – that the woman hasn’t ‘repossessed’ it.

And that he feels responsible for what’s happened to the relationship is apparent from the way he describes his mental state in verse one:

‘I’m sittin’ on my watch so I can be on time’

The phrase ‘sittin’ on my watch’, in addition to representing the narrator’s concern with timekeeping (in a somewhat bizarre way), comes across as an admission of carelessness in allowing something to happen which shouldn’t have. He was, as the phrase has it, asleep on his watch. What it was he allowed to happen we’re not told, but it may be he sees himself as having paid insufficient regard to the possibility of a rival.

This admission of fault itself gives rise to an attempt to be more careful in future. Although the line:

‘I know who I can depend on, I know who to trust’.

can be  an expression of overconfidence, it might also be taken as a declaration that he has taken steps to curb that overconfidence. Either way being over trusting gives way to an apparently necessary suspicion:

‘I’m watchin’ the roads, I’m studying the dust’

He’s now more wary. On the present interpretation, which runs parallel to the one given above concerning his unfaithfulness, sitting on his watch has given way to watching the roads for a rival.


The narrator here is the same as the narrator of Summer Days and the song is similar in that it comprises his memories about an unsuccessful relationship. There’s a shadowy recurrence of the main theme of the earlier song, about whether the past is repeatable, in the ambivalence shown by the narrator regarding the future. He’s shown early on to focus on an imaginary, idealised future which he fails to make come about. When, inevitably, his hopes are dashed, instead of reacting positively he decides to put an end to the future itself – his, the woman’s and his child’s. In doing so he prevents any hope of past happiness, imagined or otherwise, being repeated.

In terms of plot, as with Summer Days the song is inconclusive in that, while the murders seem intended, we don’t get to find out whether they are carried out. What we do get is a deeper insight into the mind of the narrator – what it is about him which results in his terrible decision. There’s more evidence here of why the relationship broke down, the narrator’s disloyalty, deviousness and lack of commitment to the relationship all becoming apparent.  While there’s no further evidence of, for example, the narrator’s extroversion, rudeness or reticence about his past, we’re able to see why he’s unable to cope. Just as he had earlier represented the future to himself in idealised form, we again find him unable to accept reality when he desperately tries to convince himself that that things aren’t as bad as they seem. He swings from absurd optimism to absurd pessimism. In the end his torment causes him to lose his mind – to give up the fight and recklessly impose cruel suffering.

Behind the horror of his decision, we can find a positive side to his character. Due to the song’s comprising the narrator’s memories of different stages of the relationship, we’re able to see how his outlook has developed. He becomes more wary and has learnt to be critical of his earlier idealistic feelings. And although he seems disloyal, the reference to his ‘last go-round’ shows at least that he intends to reform (albeit, like St Augustine, ‘not yet’). Furthermore, rightly or wrongly, he believes he’s doing what he can to save the relationship.



  1. According to Luke 3.16 ‘Christ will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and with fire’ and so the narrator is perhaps attempting to justify his intention by seeing himself in some sense as Christ (as he does when he uses the expression ‘sin no more’). Here ‘fire’ seems to refer to Christ’s suffering. Christ is saying that he will baptise people in the sense that he’ll make up for their sins past and future by suffering on the cross. Dylan’s narrator likewise intends to do away with what he perceives as the woman’s adultery – by killing his family.

It may also be relevant that prior to the crucifixion Christ also said ‘I have come to bring  fire to the earth and how I wish it was blazing already. There is a baptism I must still receive and how great is my distress till it is over’ (Luke 12.49-53). Here it is his executioners who are baptising him in the metaphorical sense that they’re causing him to suffer and so, indirectly, they’re doing away with sin. Again Dylan’s narrator would be putting an end to any chance of the woman or their children repeating her ‘sin’ by killing them.

  1. It would seem he’s also not true in another sense. Given his philandering it seems unlikely he’s speaking the truth when he says:

‘You were my first love and you will be my last’

Summer Days


The song comprises the loosely connected memories of the narrator. Through them we’re able to re-construct a part of his life and aspects of his character which he unintentionally gives away. Due to the order in which events are presented, it is not always certain precisely who is involved or when an event occurs. The effect is to license conflicting, albeit complementary, interpretations, and  it will be in the light of these interpretations that the significance of  the central theme – whether the past can be repeated – will become apparent.

The theme is inspired by F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel The Great Gatsby. One way of seeing the narrator is as a version of Fitzgerald’s hero. Gatsby is in love with a woman who, since their enforced parting, has married someone else. Despite the husband’s unfaithfulness, Gatsby fails to revive the former relationship. This failure is in part due to the snobbery of a social class to which he aspires but cannot belong, and in part to a hopeless belief that a happier past can be repeated. Dylan’s narrator has a number of Gatsby’s traits. Like Gatsby he is ostentatious, acquisitive, deceitful, and a social failure. And – crucially – like Gatsby he’s undone by his determination to repeat the past by reviving a former relationship. His pursuit of a now married woman who rejects him brings out the worst in his character.

That’s one way of seeing the narrator. But there is another which enables the theme of repeating the past to be explored in a way that goes beyond Fitzgerald’s. As so often with Dylan, the song is a masterpiece of economy and a feature of this is the application of a single description of a wedding to two separate weddings. This facilitates an alternative interpretation according to which the narrator does succeed in marrying after all, and in so doing does repeat the past.  What transpires, though, is that the resulting repetition is sterile, and at best part of an endless cycle of similarly sterile repetitions.

The analysis is in four main parts. The first three deal respectively with the underlying narrative, evidence for there being two weddings, and the theme of repeating the past. The fourth, and longest, part deals with the narrator’s character.

Part 1

The Underlying Narrative

We need, then, to see how the song explores the theme of repeating the past in a way which goes beyond Fitzgerald’s approach. In order to do this, it will be best to begin by clarifying the narrative underlying the sometimes randomly ordered memories which comprise the song.

On one level of interpretation, and on the assumption that the plot begins by following Fitzgerald’s, the narrator wants to marry a woman he has previously known. The woman, who is already married, says it’s impossible but the narrator refuses to believe her:

‘She says, “You can’t repeat the past.” I say, “You can’t? What do you mean you can’t? Of course you can.”

The song details the narrator’s attempts to impress but ends with his disillusionment and desire for revenge. He hasn’t been able to repeat the past and marry the woman.

However, some doubt is cast on this straightforward interpretation by references to a wedding (v6), a wedding reception (v3), a businessman (v5) and a politician (v12). These references would suggest an alternative course of events. Whereas the novel begins with the woman already married, the song is taking us back to the celebrations accompanying that wedding. The groom is the businessman derided by the narrator in verse five, and the narrator is seen as a somewhat drunken guest at the reception. Sometime later, after the narrator has prised the woman away from the groom, he marries her. And sometime after that, a politician prises the woman away from the narrator who ends up disillusioned and vowing to get his revenge.

Part 2

Evidence for Two Weddings

The Timing of the Reception

We might think that both the wedding alluded to in verse six and the reception described in verse three are part of one and the same celebration. But this isn’t necessarily the case. There’s no reason to assume that the reception of verse three is in any direct way connected with the wedding of verse six. In fact, if we assume that the narrator is recounting events in the order they occurred, the reception will have to be associated with an earlier wedding. It will have to have taken place before, not after, the events of verse three. In consequence, the wedding described in verse six will be a different, later wedding.

This account does depend on the narrator’s recalling events in the order in which they occurred. Quite often, however, he seems to jump from one incident to another and then back again. If that’s what’s happening here, the order of the accounts no longer gives us reason to think there are two weddings. In that case, in order to establish that there are two weddings, we need independent evidence. This can be provided as follows.

The Toast

It can be shown that the reception of verse three is connected with a wedding which is not the narrator’s. This is worth doing because, even though it isn’t in itself enough to show there there are two weddings, it will do so if it is combined with reasons for thinking the wedding of verse six is the narrator’s.

That the groom at the reception is not the narrator is clear because otherwise the narrator who is proposing a toast, presumably to the groom, would be toasting himself.1 We know the person being toasted is the groom because he’s described as ‘the King’ and this makes him related to the bride who, as we’ve been given some reason to believe, has ‘royal Indian blood’.

That this royal relationship is not itself a blood relationship, but one by marriage, is clearly implied by there being no further mention of blood. And since there’s no indication that the recipient of the toast is any other sort of blood relation, there can be little doubt that the marriage being celebrated is his and not the narrator’s.

Verse Six

As noted above, the matter of there being two weddings will now be settled if it can be shown that the wedding which is the subject of verse six is the narrator’s. One reason for taking it to be narrator’s, is the third line:

‘What looks good in the day, at night is another thing’

While on one level the narrator seems to be making a crude, general observation about sex,  he might be seen as acknowledging that the marriage – his marriage – is a failure. He’d be lamenting that at night, when he and the woman are together alone, it’s disastrous and that it only ‘appears’ to be good at other times. In the language of the title, the ‘summer nights’ are already gone and the ‘summer days’ only appear not to have.


A second reason for taking verse six to concern the narrator’s marriage is that in verse two he can be taken to be telling us that he, as distinct from the groom, has

‘Got a long-haired woman …’

It would be an odd thing to say if he weren’t married to her, particularly since it’s said in the context of domestic matters:

‘I got a house on a hill, I got hogs all out in the mud’


Finally, verse twelve concerning the politician can be interpreted in a way which at least corroborates the view that the wedding of verse six is the narrator’s. The politician, we’re told has been:

‘… suckin’ the blood out of the genius of generosity’

The politician, we can surmise, is attempting to supplant the narrator in the woman’s affections, so depriving him of her. On this account the ‘blood’ is either metaphorical and the narrator’s, or else refers synecdochally to the woman, whom we’ve been told has ‘royal Indian blood’. The blood might also represent a financial bribe, one going beyond what the narrator has willingly offered in the hope of seeing off the politician. Thus ‘the genius of generosity’ would be being self-referentially applied by the narrator to himself on the basis of the price he’d willingly offered. That the narrator is prepared to pay financially in the cause of love is backed up by his boast in a different context:

‘My pockets are loaded and I’m spending every dime’

In the light of this the politician is best seen a rival threatening the narrator’s marriage by playing the same predatory role the narrator played when the woman was married to the businessman. To that extent, even if it provides insufficient evidence on its own, it at least corroborates the view that verse six refers to the narrator’s marriage.


All things considered there is, I suggest, adequate evidence for their being two weddings to the woman, the earlier one the businessman’s and the later one the narrator’s.

Part 3:

Theme of Repeating the Past

Importance of
There Being Two Weddings

One significance of there being two weddings is that it enables a contrast to be brought out between the woman and the narrator with respect to the past being repeated. By marrying for a second time, the woman is not merely repeating the past but instead embarking on something new – a new relationship with a new person, the narrator. And when that relationship ends and she marries the politician, she will again be embarking on something new and so again not merely be repeating the past.

A parallel point can be made in connection with the politician. There being two weddings is significant in that it allows both the narrator’s destruction of the first wedding and its repetition in the politician’s destruction of the narrator’s wedding. This repetition might lead us to think that the politician’s wedding is also likely to be doomed. But again there’s a difference. What for the narrator is a matter of trying to repeat the past in reviving an old relationship, for the politician is a matter of  embarking on something new. Since the narrator ultimately fails with the woman, and the politician succeeds, it’s reasonable to blame the outcome on the narrator’s desire to repeat the past.

That the politician has a more effective attitude to the past than the narrator is also apparent in his being described as having:

‘… no time to lose’

The phrase ‘no time to lose’ implies that for the politician once time is lost, it’s lost forever. Its further significance is in drawing attention to the narrator’s attitude to the past when he also refers to time:

‘How can you say you love someone else when you know it’s me all the time?’

Whereas the politician is not concerned about repeating the past but with making the most of the present, the narrator’s ‘all the time’ implies that the woman can only love someone in the present if the relationship is a repeat of an earlier relationship with that person.

The main importance of there being two weddings, however, is that it enables the song to represent a modification of the view illustrated in The Great Gatsby that the past cannot be repeated. In the song the narrator does repeat the past – by reviving a defunct relationship with the woman. However the woman’s claim that the past can’t be repeated has no more been refuted in effect than the narrator’s claim has been upheld. What the song does is clarify the sense in which the past cannot be repeated by showing that there’s no meaningful sense in which it can. The narrator has achieved nothing by reviving the relationship because it is doomed to failure.

The Opening and Closing Verses

Particularly important for demonstrating the meaninglessness of the narrator’s repetition of the past by marrying the woman is the relationship between the song’s first and last verses. The verses are each of three lines and in each we find the following pair of statements:

‘Summer days, summer nights are gone’


‘I know a place where there’s still somethin’ going on’

It’s not clear that the final verse’s repetition of the pair indicates that the past is being repeated, however. It doesn’t have to. It could be that the two verses are presenting the same pair of thoughts which were had just the once. Accordingly, the summer days and nights referred to in each verse would be identical, as would the place referred to and whatever it is that’s ‘going on’. Only if there were two separate pairs of thoughts, one in the first verse and one in the final verse, might the events referred to be different. If the events of the final verse are different events to those of the first verse, then – given their similarity – the later events can be said to repeat the earlier events.

The matter can be settled by noting that the middle line of each verse is subtly different. Whereas the first verse has:

‘Summer days and the summer nights have gone’,

as its middle line, the final verse simply has:

‘Summer days, summer nights are gone’.

The addition of the phrase ‘and the‘ in the first verse suggests that we’re being given two distinct, albeit very similar, thoughts in the two middle lines. And that allows the possibility that the events alluded to in the final verse are different to the events alluded to in the first verse. In that case the past would have been repeated. What is happening is that at the end of another summer the narrator again bemoans its passing, but welcomes the thought that not everything is over.

Importantly, there’s nothing to suggest that this repetition is a one-off. The fact that the events of one year are repeated the following year suggests that there’ll be a similar repetition at the end of every autumn. The narrator will regret summer’s passing, but find solace in whatever hasn’t yet ended. He’ll be repeating the past over and over again, but only in the sense that each year will be a carbon copy of the previous one. What’s significant is that he’ll have failed to repeat the past in any meaningful way. The creativity and originality which characterise doing something for the first time can’t be repeated, and therefore the life of continuous repetition to which the narrator has condemned himself will be pointless.

Part 4

The Narrator’s Character

In addition to exploring the theme of the repeatability of the past, the song provides a detailed and subtle representation of the narrator’s character. Considered below are three ways in which he can be seen to be flawed as a character. There’s also an examination of possible causes of his state of mind. Along the way the significance of lines yet to be considered will become apparent.

Showing Off

The narrator is a show-off. But he’s unsuccessful at it. At the reception he, perhaps drunkenly, makes himself the centre of attention by standing on the table, but doesn’t get the response he‘s hoping for. This is made apparent by way of a slight change in the repeated line:

‘Everybody get ready – lift up your glasses and sing’

which becomes:

‘Everybody get ready to lift up your glasses and sing’

The difference is subtle but it changes the meaning considerably. The first line includes the order ‘lift up your glasses and sing’- suggesting the narrator has confidence that he’ll be obeyed. The second removes that order, replacing it with an order merely to prepare to do so. It seems like the climb down of someone less at ease socially than he’d like to think as he realises that his original request is being ignored.

The narrator is also drawing attention to himself by showing off his possessions. He fails again because, by their descriptions, these aren’t up to much. There’s a ‘house on a hill’ but it seems not to have anything about it to make it worth describing further. Despite the boast, we imagine a rather plain house on a rather plain hill. Equally curiously he goes on to mention his hogs.2 It seems that these possessions are in conflict with the sort of image he’s trying to project. It may be significant that he changes the description of the hogs from ‘out in the mud’ to ‘out lying in the mud’. Given some dubious claims he makes, which are mentioned below, one wonders whether he’s unconsciously chosen a word which should warn us to be on our guard for signs of mendacity.

Another thing of which he’s proud – and seems to treat as a possession in lumping her in with the house and the hogs – is the long-haired woman with her royal Indian blood. While at this point we can assume he has become ‘the King’ in being related by marriage to her, the pride he has in his possessions might show that he’s seeing himself as a different sort of King. The possessions coupled with the title suggest he sees himself as some sort of Elvis, Elvis being ‘King of pop’. This might explain the Cadillac, an expensive type of car of which Elvis owned several. The boast of eight carburettors seem unbelievable, however, and alas, the whole consequence of showing off comes crashing down when this ‘worn out star’ suffers the indignity of running out of petrol.

Given the ‘eight carburettors’ claim and that he’s ‘short on gas’, one wonders whether the impression he wants to impart of being ‘loaded’ and ‘spending every dime’ represents the truth. Either way it’s clear he thinks the woman can be won by the prospect of wealth. It doesn’t work. He gets his comeuppance when, despite his efforts, she responds that she loves someone else.3


The narrator’s showing off suggests an immaturity which is further apparent in his petulance and downright rudeness. In verse five he insensitively dismisses the man the woman says she loves as ‘some old businessman’. And he begins the sentence in which he does this with the contemptuous ‘What good are you anyway. …?’ It’s extraordinary that he thinks such an approach suitable for convincing the woman to marry him.

When told in verse seven that he can’t repeat the past, he replies:

‘”What do you mean you can’t? Of course you can”’.

This is tellingly different from Gatsby’s response to the same observation:

‘”Can’t repeat the past,” he cried incredulously. “Why, of course you can.”‘

Whereas Gatsby is just incredulous, the narrator ‘s ‘What do you mean you can’t?’, and the absence of the softening ‘Why’ before ‘Of course you can’, turn the response into a personal criticism, implying that the woman is stupid.4

There’s more petulance in verse eight. The woman has apparently asked, presumably on first getting to know the narrator, about his background. This elicits the unexpectedly curt reply:

‘Sorry that’s nothin’ you would need to know’

Clearly the narrator has something to hide – perhaps a criminal past, like Gatsby. Alternatively he may be embarrassed about his origins, also like Gatsby. Either way the response is rude.

There’s a further curt reply, presumably to the same question, although we hear it in verse eleven:

‘If it’s information you want, you can go get it from the police’

The coldness of the response is added to by the unnecessarily dismissive addition of ‘go’ before ‘get it’. The reply is defensive and particularly inappropriate because the woman is unlikely to be asking for ‘information’ in a sense which implies she’s spying on him. If he wants her to marry him, it’s reasonable for her to expect some transparency.

The narrator’s immaturity is again shown in verse eleven when he says:

‘You got something to say, speak or hold your peace
Well, you got something to say, speak now or hold your peace’

These lines are amusingly presented as a parody of those in a marriage ceremony where the celebrant asks if anyone knows any reason why the couple shouldn’t marry. As it happens the woman has already spoken, and the ceremonial wedding language in which the narrator is made to couch his demand makes it clear he recognises the significance of what she’d said. What she’d said is why their marriage can’t take place, namely that she loves someone else and that ‘you can’t repeat the past’.5

Immaturity is once again apparent at the end of the song. Verse thirteen ends:

‘I’m counting on you, love, to give me a break.

Apparently, and understandably, the woman doesn’t think she owes him ‘a break’. We can assume she expects him to sort his own problems out. His immediate response is one of self-pity:

‘Well, I’m leaving in the morning as soon as the dark clouds lift

This, however, immediately gives way to another petulant outburst:

‘Gonna break the roof in – set fire to the place as a parting gift’

At first it sounds sinister. Unable to get her to give him a break, he says he’ll provide a different type of break; he’ll break the roof in. The adolescent nature of his stated intention is made all the more obvious by his implication that he can leave only once the clouds have lifted. Even if ‘dark clouds’ is a metaphor representing his state of mind, it’s unclear why waiting for them to lift is necessary. One is inclined to conclude that he doesn’t intend to leave at all. This would make the wanton vandalism no more than an empty threat, a rather pathetic attempt at emotional blackmail.

Inability to Face or Recognise the Truth

Another aspect of the narrator’s character is his tendency to believe only what he wants to believe. He knows full well there’s a threat to his marriage (‘… there must be someone around’) yet in what is apparently a response to the woman’s reaction when he confronts her about the politician, he says:

‘You been rolling your eyes – you been teasing me’

It would appear that the narrator cannot accept that her body language is confirming his suspicion. He deceives himself into passing off the relationship with the politician as mere ‘teasing’. It’s a temporary respite.

A further, perhaps less deliberate, case of his avoiding the truth occurs in verse seven in his response to the woman’s comment about not being able to repeat the past. The verse begins:

‘She’s looking into my eyes …’

The description suggests sincerity, tenderness and depth on her part.  The sincerity and tenderness are reinforced by the rest of the line:

‘… she’s holding my hand’.

Depth is indicated through the word ‘into’. Perversely, however, the narrator sees the woman’s demeanour as an indication of commitment when it’s in fact the opposite. He fails to see that when she tells him ‘you can’t repeat the past’ she’s not making a comment about people generally, as his response implies, but means that he can’t resurrect the relationship he once had with her. She understands where he in particular is going wrong. Looking into his eyes, she can see into his soul, as it were. She can see that his behaviour towards her is a vain attempt to resurrect the past, and her comment is to warn him that it can’t be done.

Causes of the Narrator’s State of Mind

It’s clear that the underlying causes of the narrator’s problems are to be found in his refusal to act and, when he does act, a refusal to accept responsibility for failure. Instead, he presents himself as powerless to bring about his aim. In verse five, he describes his situation metaphorically, with:

‘The fog is so thick you can’t even spy the land’

He is, as it were, all at sea, not knowing which way to turn to improve his prospects of winning the woman. Or so he convinces himself.

By verse fourteen, the fog has transmuted into ‘dark clouds’ which he assumes will lift. But if the dark clouds represent what he perceives as going wrong in his life, then it’s unlikely they’re going to lift – at least of their own accord.

Instead of acting, though, he puts the blame on the woman, implying in verse five that she’s useless in not standing up to her husband – whom he derides as ‘some old businessman’.

He also complains, in verse eight, that his back has long been to the wall, again suggesting he doesn’t know which way to turn. And in the same verse he again implies, bitterly, that the fault is the woman’s. The woman has broken his heart before, and she’d do it again just to spite him – ‘for good luck’.

In verse ten he admits a lack of success. He claims to have his ‘hammer ringin …’:

‘… but the nails ain’t goin’ down’

Since ‘ringin’’ takes up a previous reference to wedding bells, we can assume he means that although he’s working on making her his wife, he’s meeting with no success. Admittedly he doesn’t blame the woman here, but  it’s notable that he doesn’t blame himself either.

When towards the end he says:

‘Standing by God’s river, my soul is beginnin’ to shake’

we can assume his dread is a result of his not feeling in control.


The song deals with two main issues – whether it’s possible to repeat the past (Parts 1-3) and the narrator’s character (Part 4).

The narrator, whose character is seen through a series of random and temporally dislocated memories, is a development of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Gatsby. While sharing some of Gatsby’s characteristics, he comes across as weaker than Fitzgerald’s protagonist. They both have an inordinate love of their possessions, and a desire for a married woman. They both fail, too, and in part for the same reason – their rejecting the same good advice. But among differences between them is the narrator’s habitual petulance and rudeness, his inability to cope, his failure to accept what’s happening, his inappropriate extrovert behaviour, and his too easily giving in to circumstances. He’s also different in that he seems interested in the woman primarily for what she represents in terms of social standing, sex, and her ability to give him ‘a break’. There’s little, if any, evidence of genuine, emotional attachment.

The main theme of the song is whether or not the past is repeatable. Although it’s borrowed from The Great Gatsby, it leads to a broader conclusion. It’s in part on the back of the different interpretations allowed by the disordered presentation of the narrator’s memories– notably of the verses concerning a wedding and a reception – that the broader conclusion regarding the repeatability of the past is reached. While the song too shows how the past cannot be repeated, it simultaneously allows us to see what the consequence of such repetition would be. It would be to achieve nothing beyond further pointless repetition – at least where the original repetition is so exact as to allow no advance to have been made. Nevertheless, some repetitions are presented in a more positive light. These are where they’re inexact, thus allowing the new situation to be an advance on the old. Interestingly, the song itself in the way it’s structured provides several examples of repetitions of this second sort. Lines, though repeated are often not repeated exactly, so that they acquire a different meaning. And the final verse, in repeating the first verse inexactly, likewise acquires a different meaning – albeit one that reinforces the view that exact repetitions of the past lead to stagnation.




  1. Once he has himself married the woman, he does of course become the King.
  2. That the house is ‘on a hill’ may be significant. The hill, being three-dimensional, contrasts with the two-dimensional flats in ‘… I’m drivin’ in the flats in a Cadillac car’. The suggestion would be that there’s more to ordinary, humdrum married life with house and pigs  than to the superficially more attractive, but showy life of the bachelor. (Note added 5.8.2019)
  3. From the remaining verses in which we see the narrator vowing to leave after wreaking revenge, it would seem that this willingness to use money to achieve his end fails just as it did earlier when he’d been ‘spending every dime’.
  4. For those who see Dylan as simply plagiarising when he lifts lines from other works, the use here of the Fitzgerald conversation about repeating the past provides a very obvious instance of its not being the case.
  5. The word ‘something’ in ‘You got something to say …’ is significant here. It can be taken as referring back its use in the first verse – ‘I know a place where there’s still somethin’ going on’ – and so suggests that the narrator is guilty of blindly assuming that what’s going on is favourable to him. A similar point can be made about the word ‘going’ in ‘the nails ain’t goin’ down’. He just assumes that what’s going on is to his benefit, yet the use of the phrase ‘goin’ down’ in connection with the recalcitrant nails suggests that he’s miscalculated.














The song rests on an irony. The narrator has been having an affair in Mississippi only to get back and find that the woman he is more committed to has apparently also been having an affair. The irony is in that her affair would be a direct result of his. He realises that if he’d behaved more responsibly and returned even a day earlier, the woman wouldn’t have given up on him and embarked on another relationship. Throughout the song we find the narrator berating himself for not having returned in time.

Essentially the song lays bare the character of the narrator by presenting his thoughts and fragments of his conversations, imagined or actual. He comes across as lacking both self-esteem and a confidence in his ability to put things right.  Even he doesn’t seem to realise how he’s fooling himself, never seeming to depart far from the truth but rarely being totally honest either. Towards the end of the song there are signs of an increasing acceptance of responsibility for what has happened. The religious imagery which permeates the song suggests that the woman whose behaviour he despises could well be his salvation.1

The Woman

It is not certain that the woman the narrator has returned to is having an affair; we have only the narrator’s suspicions to go on.2 That he thinks she has can be gleaned from the fifth verse phrase:

‘… mule’s in the stall’.3

That he thinks she’s having an affair is also apparent from the frustrated outburst in the next line:

‘Say anything you wanna, I have heard it all’

– this sounding like an impatient response to the woman’s excuses, or protestations of innocence.

The narrator’s belief that the unnamed woman is in fact in a relationship would explain various other things he says. These include his regret at having not arrived back a day earlier, and the line:

‘I know you’re sorry, I’m sorry too’.

It would also explain his claim that it’s both of them whose ‘days are numbered’. The suggestion is that both have done wrong and have only a limited amount of time to make up for it.

As will become apparent, the line:

‘You can always come back, but you can’t come back all the way’

is open to a number of interpretations. If we see it as being addressed to the woman, that too would indicate that he sees her as having betrayed him. The effect, he’s saying, is that because of her their relationship can never be the same again.


The narrator’s outburst is immediately followed by:

‘I was thinkin’ ‘bout the things that Rosie said
I was dreaming I was sleepin’ in Rosie’s bed’

Who, one wonders, is Rosie? And what is her relevance to the outburst? It must be that Rosie is a woman he knew in Mississippi, and the cause of his delayed return.

We can assume that this Rosie couplet comprises a thought which occurs in the present, some time after the outburst. The narrator is reminding himself that while the woman was speaking he – amazingly – was consoling himself by thinking about Rosie. The narrator does not trouble to say whether the memory is accompanied by a sense of guilt.


While it’s easy to see the narrator as someone who blames both circumstances and the woman for his own failings, there are indications that he accepts some responsibility for the break up. This is most apparent when in the penultimate verse he refers to:

‘… the corner that I painted myself in

There’s no attempt at this late stage to blame anyone but himself.

To a lesser extent the refrain too implies acceptance of responsibility:

‘Only one thing I did wrong
Stayed in Mississippi a day too long’

Here he admits fault, but apparently not moral fault. He accepts that he made a mistake, but there is no hint that he’s accepting responsibility for anything more serious than that. Furthermore it’s made to seem a very minor mistake; he stayed an extra day, but what’s one day in the scheme of things?

Well, quite a lot. He’s already admitted that both his and the woman’s:

 ‘… days are numbered’.4

If one’s remaining time is measured in days, then the loss of even one should not be taken lightly. He wasn’t with her when he could have been. And he’s not open about what he was doing instead. The truth about that has to be divined from the otherwise gnomic comment:

‘City’s just a jungle; more games to play’.

For him the city is somewhere where the law of the jungle applies. ‘Games’ can be taken as referring to sexual licentiousness. He’s not only taken advantage of the city’s lax ethical standards, but given himself extra time to do so.

The jungle image is implicitly taken up again in the line:

‘Walkin’ through the leaves, falling from the trees’

Falling leaves might represent the spiritual death of those whose ethical standards are low. The narrator sees himself as walking among the spiritually dead, by which he would mean the woman and her new lover. Since he’s walking, by implication he’s not including himself as spiritually dead.

However, this is the second time walking has figured. The first, at the beginning of the song, was:

‘… we walk the line’.

– the ‘line’ perhaps being one separating success from failure, or good from evil. What’s significant is that since both the narrator and the woman are walking the line, and the narrator is walking among the spiritually dead, so must the woman too be walking among the spiritually dead. In that case, since there is no one else, the spiritually dead must include the narrator and his lover. Although the narrator doesn’t admit it openly, his language suggests he is every bit as morally impoverished as he takes her to be.

The narrator is honest to an extent when, in reference to the city, he claims to be:

‘Trapped in the heart of it, tryin’ to get away’

– thereby implying the city’s no place to be. But that’s not saying much. He clearly wasn’t so trapped that he didn’t manage to get away a day later.

Furthermore use of the word ‘heart’ may have been deliberately chosen to give a wrong impression. It suggests that the city is something good, so that the narrator had no need to escape from it. ‘Heart’ has connotations of kindness and consideration for others, so there’d have been no problem if those were the things that had trapped him. His choice of language is disingenuous. What he’s actually trapped by is the prospect of having his desires satisfied. If the city represents such selfishness and neglect of the needs of others, it ought not to be associated with the heart.

There’s a further significance to the use of ‘heart’ here since it foreshadows it’s later use in:

‘My heart is not weary, it’s light and it’s free’

At first the claim might sound positive. However,  when one remembers that the narrator has used ‘heart’ to represent a tendency to immorality, it’s hardly good that the narrator’s is light and free. One might conclude he’s allowed it to be a bit too free. Again he comes across as untrustworthy, and again it’s by way of his using ‘heart’ to give a wrong impression.

There’s another example of the narrator’s using language dishonestly in his claim:

‘You can always come back, but you can’t come back all the way’.

Taking the ‘you’ this time as referring to himself, it seems to be an attempt to justify not giving up his way of life in the city altogether. But the supposed justification seems to depend on ‘you’ being taken differently – that is, to mean ‘one’, or to refer to people generally. He appears to be saying that since nobody can ever come back all the way, it’s hardly surprising that he can’t. This too is disingenuous. He’s supplied no reason to suppose that people generally can’t completely give up a way of life, so it’s inappropriate to use this to support his own failure to do so.

Refusal to Change

In addition to his lack of honesty, the narrator suffers from an inability to make progress. This is made apparent in what might seem a rather bland comment:

‘Everybody movin’, if they ain’t already there
Everybody got to move somewhere’.

In fact the lines get to the core of the narrator’s predicament. Staying still, both metaphorically and literally, achieves nothing. It’s ironic, then, that while he recognises part of his problem to be not having moved (he stayed too long in Mississippi), and he realises the necessity of his moving when he says that everybody has got to move’, he still doesn’t. He reacts to the necessity with:

‘Stick with me baby …’

Not only is he implying that he’s staying put, but in a sense he’s encouraging the woman to do likewise.

A similar attitude is present when he claims to know:

‘… that fortune is waitin’ to be kind’.

He just assumes that things will turn out well without his having to do anything. To say that ‘fortune is waiting’ is just a roundabout way of saying that he’s waiting for fortune.

And when he announces that:

‘Things should start to get interesting right about now’

he’s putting his faith in things becoming interesting of their own accord rather than through his doing anything to make them interesting:

His refusal to accept the need for change is again present where he expresses regret that:

‘You can always come back, but you can’t come back all the way’.

As suggested above, while ‘you’, here, might refer to him, it can also be taken to refer to the woman. If it’s her he’s addressing, then he’s presenting himself as fixed. He expects her to come to him to make up for their mutual wrongdoing, rather than the other way round. He seems to have no intention of making up the remaining distance by meeting her halfway – that is, by admitting his own guilt. That would require moving, which he won’t bring himself to do.

Love Or Sex

It might sound romantic when he all but ends his appeal for sympathy with a further appeal in verse eleven:

‘So give me your hand and say you’ll be mine’.

But the line is full of irony. The listener can’t help noticing that this appeal for the woman to ‘give’ comes after the admission:

‘Got nothin’ for you, I had nothin’ before’.

The narrator expects the woman to give her hand (presumably in marriage) without his having given anything to her. Furthermore, the appeal may just be a change of tactic. It follows an episode of bitterness on his part in which he can be seen as criticising her for not previously having given him her hand:

‘Some people will offer you their hand and some won’t
Last night I knew you, tonight I don’t’

The second line makes it clear that it was sex which he had previously offered and which she refused. It’s that which accounts for the bitter tone. The narrator would be bitter that, while the woman has acceded to his rival’s desires, she has rejected his. Since an appeal for sex didn’t work, he’s now appealing to her sense of romance.

Tendency To Give Up

One reason for the narrator’s failing to find a way out of his predicament is that he gives up too easily. It’s remarkable how often negatives, including the word ‘never’, figure in what he says:

‘All my powers of expression and thoughts so sublime
Could never do you justice in reason or rhyme’.

He’s not just saying that he doesn’t have the ability to put his admiration for her into words, but that he could never do so. ‘Could never …’ – he’s given up even before the first hurdle.5

And ‘thoughts so sublime’! Perhaps these thoughts could have been a bit more sublime if they hadn’t focused on what Rosie’d said, and on sleeping with her. They’d then have stood some chance of doing the woman justice.

It’s clear, then, that in the above couplet the narrator is just making an excuse. This is further suggested by the fact that the couplet is immediately followed by the refrain. It’s as if his sub-conscious is telling him the real reason he hasn’t done the woman justice is that he’s been gallivanting in Mississippi.

The tendency to give up is present again when alludes to:

‘So many things that we never will undo’

Again, he’s given up before he’s even started. It’s hardly surprising he sees himself as ‘a stranger nobody sees’.


The negative outlook continues in the ninth verse:

‘Well my ship’s been split to splinters and it’s sinkin’ fast
I’m drownin’ in the poison, got no future, got no past’

The sinking ship metaphor makes it sound as if events are beyond his control, since obviously one passenger can’t stop a ship from sinking. Thus he’s finding an excuse for not taking responsibility for his predicament. But when we realise that the ship represents his life, it’s far from clear that he’s as powerless to prevent disaster as he likes to imagine.

The metaphor is extended with the idea of drowning in poison. One’s ship sinking doesn’t necessarily have drowning as its consequence. And it definitely doesn’t mean one is being poisoned. Again, the drowning and poison references seem designed to imply helplessness, yet he’s given us no reason to think that he is helpless. On the contrary:

‘My clothes are wet, tight on my skin’

Somehow being shipwrecked has become a matter of being no more than uncomfortably damp on dry land. So much for drowning in poison. Yet he still presents his condition as a disaster.


The narrator’s inadequacy comes across in the emptiness of his life. As he says himself in an apparent reference to life without the woman:

‘The emptiness is endless …’

That the fault for that is his becomes apparent when we see how other expressions associated with ‘emptiness’ figure throughout the song – in particular ‘nothing’:

‘Got nothin’ for you, I had nothin’ before’

He’s hardly making himself seem attractive. Not only has he nothing to give (presumably as a present) after his absence, but he seems to be making his having previously  given nothing an excuse for his giving nothing now. The feeble impression he’s creating is then cemented by his saying:

‘Don’t even have anything for myself anymore’

The inclusion of the word ‘even’ compounds the pathetic absurdity of this call for sympathy. It gives the impression that not having anything for oneself is worse than not having anything for someone else. Such self-centredness is hardly going to impress.

The verse ends with what seems to be a telling giveaway:

Nothing you can sell me …’

While this third ‘nothing’ reinforces the effect of the previous two occurrences, and the admission of not having anything for himself, the verse seems to be ending with a startling Freudian implication. ‘Nothing you can sell me …’ seems to imply the woman’s a prostitute. Since there’s no indication that this is in fact the case, the likely explanation is that so much of his time in Mississippi has been spent buying sexual favours that he forgets he’s not doing just that when he’s addressing the woman he wants to marry.

The negatives continue to abound. In the ninth there’s a fourth use of ‘nothing’:

‘I’ve nothing but affection for all those who’ve sailed with me’

While this is intended to emphasise a positive emotional outlook, it would be true to form for him to think that affection is all he has got. It’s noticeable that he doesn’t take the opportunity to mention his affection for the woman. If he’s going to stand a chance of reviving the relationship, he ought to at least lavish that on her.

It might come as a relief to find him using the word ‘something’ as opposed to ‘nothing’ but, when he does, even this implies a lack:

‘I need somethin’ strong to distract my mind’

It’s pathetic that he needs to be distracted (presumably from thoughts of other women) rather than being able to exercise self-control. And while his reply that he’s going to ‘look at’ the woman he’s addressing might seem positive, even this serves to reinforce his negative self-image. In presenting the woman as strong he seems to be casting himself as weak.


There is hope for the narrator despite all his negative qualities. The eighth verse suggests that by following the woman’s example the narrator can destroy the blemishes on his character. The suggestion is made by way of religious imagery:

‘Well I got here followin’ the southern star
I crossed that river just to be where you are’

The first line associates the narrator with the Maji who honoured Christ by following a star, and hence associates him with the Christian values of love and selflessness. Additionally, since biblically the star leads to Christ, the language here implies that the woman at the end of his journey is in a sense Christ. In other words she can be seen as having a Christ-like role.

This has obvious moral significance for them both. We can speculate that the woman’s Christ-like role involves dispensing forgiveness. While the narrator seems unforgiving of the woman’s putative transgression when he says:

‘You can always come back, but you can’t come back all the way’,

it would be Christ-like for her to forgive him his actual transgression. His ‘following the southern star’ would then amount to his approaching her position of being forgiving. (A beginning would be for him to pay attention to her rather than saying ‘I have heard it all’.)

The second line of the above couplet associates the narrator himself with Christ by way of the word ‘crossed’. It suggests that in making the journey across the river for the sake of the woman, he has undergone the sort of sacrifice his spiritual renewal requires. Furthermore, what the narrator characterises as drowning in the river might otherwise be seen as baptism – spiritual renewal resulting from his effort to be with the woman again. Taken figuratively, his journey to the woman requires the discomfort represented by drowning in poison. The discomfort, in moral terms, is that of admitting his guilt and of a willingness to forgive what he sees as her guilt. While he’s understandably hostile to drowning in poison, his success with the woman requires he undergo that discomfort which at the same time would amount to his spiritual renewal.

Other Religious Imagery

It is apparent, then, that although the narrator gives the impression that there’s no hope for him, religious imagery makes it clear that this is not the case. This section will be primarily concerned with images not mentioned so far, either in the main text or the footnotes.6

Positive imagery:

In the seventh verse there’s a further way in which it’s possible to see the woman as representing Christ. In being strong enough to make the narrator go blind, she is like the bright light which resulted in Paul’s conversion. As such she can again be seen as a conduit to the narrator’s own spiritual renewal.

Just as the narrator misinterprets the task ahead of him as ‘drownin’ in the poison’, so he misinterprets his life when he complains he’s ‘got no future, got no past’. A state of having no future and no past is one of timelessness or Eternity. The narrator’s comment amounts, then, to dramatic irony. Although he doesn’t realise it, under the Christ-like guidance of the woman he has the opportunity of achieving what in Christian terms is called Eternal Life.

Negative imagery:

While a number of religious images are used to represent hope for the narrator, others represent the opposite. The most obvious religious image drawing attention to the negative side of the narrator’s character is:

‘… the devil’s in the alley …’,

By identifying himself with the devil, if that’s what he’s doing, the narrator is unconsciously recognising his moral limitations.

Similarly the word ‘raised’ in the line:

‘I was raised in the country, I been working in the town’

suggests that a selfish, uncaring attitude associated with the city has replaced a more selfless one. This is because ‘raised’, with its religious connotations of new spiritual life, is being associated with somewhere other than the city where the narrator has been. That urban living and new spiritual life do not go together is made clear by the association, through rhyme, of ‘town’ with ‘down’ in the line which follows:

‘I been in trouble ever since I set my suitcase down

 –  ‘down’ being the opposite of ‘raised’.

The reference to fire in:

‘Sky full of fire …’

also suggests that the narrator’s behaviour is contravening the will of God. Various biblical references treat fire as a heavenly punishment for the wicked (e.g. 2 Kings I, Luke 9.54 and Revelation 8.5)

While overall the religious imagery reflects the narrator’s character by reflecting his many faults, the positive images suggest that there is hope for him. The overall effect, however, is to suggest that the narrator is on a knife edge – ‘walking the line’ between moral success and failure.7


Since the song was apparently originally intended for Time Out of Mind, it’s not surprising that the narrator comes across as hopelessly inadequate and lacking in self-esteem. For most of the song he’s not really admitting responsibility for the loss of the woman, and he seems to assume getting her back is a lost cause. While we’re given no reason to suppose he’s not right in this, beyond a tactical move involving a proposition of marriage he’s made little effort to win her back. Instead he resorts to exaggerating the effect his loss has had on him while assuming that it falls to the woman to demean herself by admitting a guilt which is every bit as much his.

There is some hope for him, however. He does accept some responsibility for his loss in recognising that it wouldn’t have happened if he’d returned to the woman earlier. And towards the end of the song, when he speaks of having painted himself into a corner, he seems to be accepting full responsibility. Some of the religious imagery also implies that there is hope for him. Nevertheless the final verse leaves us with his unjustified assumptions that he can be unforgiving towards the woman, and that things can never be the same again.



1. Some phrases in the song echo those of T.S.Eliot’s The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock. Like Prufrock the narrator is not doing what he knows he should do to further a relationship which, in the narrator’s case, it seems he has already betrayed. I’m not suggesting that the similarities are generally more than coincidence; it may just be that Dylan had Eliot’s words at the forefront of his mind as he wrote the song. I can’t see that recognising them helps elucidate the song’s meaning beyond perhaps showing that they have themes in common. It might be the case, for example, that Dylan’s narrator should be concerned to ‘spit out the butt ends of [his] days and ways’. The Eliot phrases are extra-indented below:

‘Time is pilin’ up’ (Verse 1):
‘And indeed there will be time’

‘I have heard it all’ (Verse 5):
‘For I have known them all already, known them all’

‘I’m gonna look at you ‘til my eyes go blind’ (Verse 7):
‘The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase’

‘I’m drowin’ in the poison …’ (Verse 9):
‘Till human voices wake us, and we drown.’

‘You can always come back, but you can’t come back all the way’ (Verse 12):
‘To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—’

‘ways’, ‘days’ and ‘hand’ passim:
‘Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?’

           ‘There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands’

2. See the Religious Imagery section for suggestions about how the woman can be taken to represent both God and Christ.

3. Muddy Waters uses the phrase ‘another mule kicking in your stall’ in Long Distance Call. Apparently it means that a woman has another man.

4. The expression ‘days are numbered’ is biblical and is followed by ‘there is hope for a tree, when it is cut down, that it will grow again’ (Job 14:5-7). The implication for the narrator is that whatever he has done to destroy his prospects can be undone. In part the song concerns the limited extent to which he achieves this undoing.

5. Although he seems to be addressing the woman, it’s more likely he’s just imagining a conversation with her. Had he actually said what he seems to be saying, he would have gone some way towards doing the very thing he claims he could never do.

6. From the start the narrator’s life is presented as a moral journey using the Christian concept of ‘the way’. Thus the song begins:

‘Every step of the way …’

and the last words before the final refrain are:

‘You can always come back, but you can’t come back all the way

In the second verse the narrator, supposedly stuck in the city, is:

‘… trying to get away

The effect of these ‘way’ references is to draw attention to the spiritual progress the narrator is either attempting to make and has already made.

7. There’s a reminder of the garden of Eden in:

‘Walkin’ through the leaves, fallin’ from the trees
Feelin’ like a stranger nobody sees’

The narrator’s ambiguous moral position is represented by the association with Adam and Eve in the garden on the one hand, and God feeling ignored while walking in the garden on the other (cf. Genesis 3.8).

NB. See Jocken Markhorst, The Mississippi Series, part 2: the line that never was (on the ‘Untold Dylan’ site) for the origin of the Lines ‘Only one thing I did wrong/Stayed in Mississippi a day too long’.

Buckets Of Rain


An amusing and touching little love song? No. It’s better seen as an unintentionally, and for the most part damning, indictment of the narrator out of his own mouth. Despite what he says, there’s not any real love in it. Instead the narrator merely attempts to convince the woman, and perhaps himself, that he’s acting to further their relationship, while coming across as deeply flawed and untrustworthy. In this way the song provides a realistic portrayal of human psychology. What saves him from total condemnation, perhaps, is our recognition that in condemning him, we’d be condemning ourselves.


One positive characteristic is the narrator’s humour which he uses both to express and make light of the misery the relationship is causing him. The first verse begins with  hyperbolic, and therefore ludicrous, exaggeration:

‘Buckets of rain
Buckets of tears’.

The ‘rain’ of the first line will be a representation of the narrator’s feelings, given what he tells us in the rest of the song. What’s absurd is the turning of this to ‘buckets of tears’. Nobody weeps that much however sorry they’re feeling for themselves. Immediately even this absurdity is outdone by the even more ludicrous:

‘Got all them buckets comin’ out of my ears’.

It should, of course, by eyes that they’re coming out of. The idea is presumably that he’s full to the brim with tears which keep overflowing. But do they overflow into buckets, or are the buckets themselves emerging from his ears?

Up till now at least the watery content of the buckets hasn’t stretched the imagination. No longer! The fourth line requires us to imagine not only buckets in an impossible place, but buckets with an impossible content:

‘Buckets of moonbeams in my hand’.

The moonbeams are presumably to be taken as an overly romantic reference to the narrator’s feelings. As he more prosaically puts it:

‘I got all the love…
you can stand’.1

The effect of reusing the buckets metaphor is to associate the depth of his feelings – ‘all the love’ – with his misery, represented by the tears.

So far we might sympathise with the narrator, at least to the extent that he’s putting a brave face on things. If the first verse seems to be setting the tone for the rest of the song, though, we’re quickly disillusioned. If we laugh at all in the later verses, we laugh at the narrator’s expense.



The narrator is thoroughly self-centred. Even his love for the woman is declared in a way which egotistically focuses on himself:

I got all the love…’

And when he at last mentions her, it’s to compare her unfavourably with himself. He’s got so much love for her, she wouldn’t be able to ‘stand’ any more.

Love for him isn’t so much an attitude towards someone. It’s reified. It’s a thing, a thing you can have a lot of. It’s a thing which, represented by moonbeams, can be carried in a bucket. The same applies when he describes her negative effect on him. Rather than her making him miserable, he says:

‘Everything about you is bringing me

Misery is a thing which is brought. In the final verse, life too is reified. It’s dismissed as ‘a bust’.

The self-centredness is apparent again in the third and fourth verses. Three lines in the third begin with ‘I like’ (or its abbreviation ‘Like’), and in the fourth a further two lines contain ‘I like’.  There’s no hint of consideration for what the woman might like. And what does the narrator like? He likes:

‘… the cool way you look at me’.

He’s still the centre of his own attention.2

The verse ends with what might sound like an expression of commitment to the woman, but in context probably betrays a concealed desperation:

‘I’m taking you with me, honey baby
When I go’.

This is the hard side of his character, alluded to in the second verse. It’s probably not that he intends to forcefully take her with him, but that it comes naturally to him to assume he should be in control.

Pretence of Affection

The structure of the song serves to emphasise the self-centredness and bitterness of the narrator. The penultimate line of each of the first two and final two verses ends with ‘honey baby’, a term of apparent endearment for the woman. The middle verse does not.  Instead it ends:

‘Everything about you is bringing me

If the term representing endearment, ‘honey baby’, can be omitted, one wonders how seriously it is intended on the four occasions it is used. Furthermore, its absence in the middle verse draws attention to the coldness and bitterness of the words which replace it. Not only does the narrator criticise the woman, which is enough anyway to make us doubt that he has ‘all the love’ she can stand, but he’s criticising everything about her.

Occurring in the central verse, the omission of ‘honey baby’ is pivotal. It indicates just how central the narrator’s self-interest is to him. And conversely, the presence of the phrase in just the outer verses indicates how peripheral to him the woman is.

Meek and Hard

 The narrator has a confused idea about what’s going to make him seem attractive. He claims to have been:

‘… meek
And hard like an oak’,

as if the two might be compatible. But the whole point about being meek is that you recognise that it’s better than being hard. Being meek is inconsistent with being hard, not its complement. In mentioning them in the same breath, the narrator seems to be treating both as positive attributes.

There’s little evidence of meekness in the song. But if ‘hard’ means domineering, he’s certainly that now, not just in the past as he implies. He lets it be known what he expects of the woman, and when she’s met his expectations:

‘You do what you must do and ya do it well

That this hardness is likely to be part of his problem is apparent when in verse two he says :

‘I seen pretty people disappear like smoke
Friends will arrive, friends will disappear’.3

The repetition of ‘disappear’ in connection with friends suggests that the first reference likewise is about friends, former friends, perhaps former girlfriends. If the latter, the future tense – ‘will arrive’/‘will disappear’ – betrays his expectation that the present woman is going to leave him. In other words, he has no expectation that this present relationship will last. One suspects that he’s right.

The admission about having been both meek and hard has an air of desperation about it. He’s really telling us that having tried both to no avail, he doesn’t know what else he can do.


If it is desperation which caused him to try being both ‘meek’ and ‘hard’, he tries to hide it. The second verse ends with the narrator attempting to build himself up in the woman’s eyes by contrasting himself favourably with those who’ve disappeared. He assures her that he’s not about to disappear from her:

‘If you want me, honey baby
I’ll be here’

The attempt to contrast himself with those who’ve left doesn’t work. By saying ‘I’ll be here’, he puts the onus on the woman to do something to further the relationship while he remains static. He’s leaving all the work to her, while not being prepared to lift a finger himself.

This is not the only example of the narrator’s inactivity. He never tells us what he does, presumably because there is nothing to tell.  Instead, in order to impress he has to rely on dubious claims about what he’s already done – ‘been meek’ and ‘hard like an oak’ (if those count as doing) – and on vague promises about what he’s going to do in the future – ‘I’ll be here’, ‘I’ll do it for you’.

By contrast, the woman comes across as continuously active – she moves, looks, loves, does what she must. Even the references to her smile and fingertips in the middle verse suggest she’s ongoingly active in pleasing him.


Another negative character trait becomes apparent in the final verse – pessimism:

‘Life is sad
Life is a bust’4

It’s a generalisation for which the narrator provides no justification. What he has in mind by ‘life’, presumably, is not life generally, but his own life. Nevertheless, by generalising he convinces himself that all life is bad. His motive, one imagines, is to prevent his own deficiencies making him seem more of a failure than the rest of us.

This pessimistic attitude he has to his life, is further reflected in a refusal to actively try to make it better:

 ‘All you can do …’

 he assumes,

‘… is do what you must’.

But why is it? His wording here is tellingly reminiscent of that of the narrator in Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts. Lily, we’re told, ‘did whatever she had to do’. But there’s a difference. The emphasis there is on Lily’s sense of responsibility. Here, this narrator emphasises what he takes to be the impossibility of going beyond his responsibilities:

All you can do …’.

– ‘you’ seeming to be a reference to himself. In the next line, where the reference of ‘you’ subtly changes to the woman, it’s noticeable that the ‘all’ is missing:

‘You do what you must do and ya do it well’.

Not only does the woman do what’s required, but there’s no implication that she limits her activity to this. As with Lily, the emphasis here is on the woman’s going beyond her responsibilities.

The song ends with the narrator again covering up his deficiencies. He makes a promise:

‘I’ll do it for you …’,

doubtless hoping this will make him look active. But the giveaway is the pronoun ‘it’. ‘It’ can only refer back to what he must do anyway. If so, he’s pessimistically assuming that anything more than what he must do can’t be done.


The most enigmatic lines of the song are in the fourth verse:

‘Little red wagon
Little red bike
I ain’t no monkey but I know what I like
I like the way you love me strong and slow’

All four lines are closely interrelated. The third line looks forwards to the fourth which, as we’ll see, is an attempt to meet criticism. It also looks backwards to the previous two lines, which establish what the narrator means by ‘monkey’. It could well be that it’s because the narrator expects to be criticised for being a ‘monkey’, that in the third line he explicitly denies it.

The ‘little red wagon’ and ‘little red bike’ of the first two lines explain the monkey reference of the third line in that these are toys that a literal monkey would play with. In the present context of a relationship they stand for women – sexual playthings the narrator feels he can play with despite his denial that he’s a monkey. That these toys are ‘red’ suggests either that the women are prostitutes, or that he sees himself as having no more commitment to them than to a prostitute. Since both toys are described as little and red, the reason he chooses the one he does must be down to the only significant difference between them –  and that’s the difference between a vehicle to passively ride in, and one to actively ride on. From what he says about ‘the way you love me’, we can assume that he sees the present woman as represented by the former.

The fourth line:

‘I like the way you love me strong and slow’

confirms that by ‘monkey’ he means someone taking a frivolous or purely sexual approach to a relationship. In denying he’s a monkey, he denies that he’s motivated just by sex. But why does he need to deny it? Obviously the woman’s either accused him of it, or he’s expecting such an accusation. She might be getting the impression he’s just motivated by sex , he says, but really she’s being misled by his liking for the ‘strong and slow’ way she loves him.

This is unconvincing, and for two reasons. First, the context (‘strong and slow’) makes it clear he’s using ‘the way you love me’ as no more than a euphemism for ‘the way you accede to my sexual desires’. In so doing he’s actually admitting the truth of her criticism while disingenuously making it seem as if his interest is ‘love’. Secondly, this euphemistic use just helps confirm what we’ve already divined from the wagon and bike metaphors.


While the narrator is somebody with whom we could warm to on account of his bizarre sense of humour, and perhaps even have some sympathy with on account of his failings, it’s those failings which dominate the song. Among these are his egotism, pessimism, inaction, and failure to understand what a relationship requires of him. Throughout, there’s a pretence of affection but, in the middle verse, the mask briefly slips and a cruel, underlying bitterness emerges. The penultimate verse contains a hopeless attempt to disguise his true motivation, and by the end of the song he’s resorting to vague, unconvincing promises of commitment and generosity.


1.     Sometimes these lines appear as:

‘You got all the love, honey baby
I can stand’.

The other version seems better, though, being more consistent with the narrator’s character in the rest of the song. It has him bragging, whereas this version has him presenting himself as weak.

2.    He also likes the way she moves her lips, suggesting perhaps that he’s more
interested in superficial appearances than listening to what she’s saying. In another
version of the song ‘lips’ is replaced with ‘hips’, but ‘lips’ seems preferable. While the
line with ‘hips’ equally suggests a superficial interest, it doesn’t get across the
narrator’s lack of interest in what she’s got to say to him.

3.   That they ‘disappear like smoke’ perhaps implies he’d made enemies of them, the
phrase seeming to be an unconscious reference to Psalm 37.20 ‘… and the enemies of
the Lord …  into smoke shall they vanish away’.

4.   The phrase ironically suggests part of the narrator’s true interest in the relationship.


Shelter From The Storm


The narrator is clearly Christ, and therefore God, or at least an aspect of him. But so too is the woman. At the same time each is human, with good points as well as imperfections.  The narrator suffers a desire to give in to temptation, and so not fulfil his divinely appointed role. The woman, on the other hand, represents the comfortable way of life the narrator is tempted to pursue. While she extols the virtue of generosity, this is tempered by her apparent commitment to a life of comparative luxury. Between them they represent to different extents two competing elements in Christ’s character, the desire for worldly comfort and a selfless acceptance of duty.

The narration seems to take place after the resurrection, but prior to the ascension since, while there are references to the crucifixion, at the end of the song the narrator is still living in what to him is a ‘foreign country’ – earth as opposed to heaven.

Arguably the song, in focusing on Christ’s human side, presents him as a more plausible redeemer than the Christ of the gospels, while simultaneously allowing for his divinity when viewed from an eternal perspective.

In support of this view I’ll give reasons for seeing both the narrator and the woman as a partially divine, partially human Christ.  While the woman is imperfect, the fallible human side will appear more dominant in the narrator and will remain so throughout the song. While he never consciously appreciates his own divine potential, he implicitly recognises it when he wants to return to a perfect past. What he fails to appreciate is that his sacrifice has already helped bring about this perfect state. Whereas he is unable to appreciate this from his earthly perspective, from an eternal one he, the woman and God already form a united whole.

The Narrator As God And Man

The narrator is God or, at least, God-like. That this is so is suggested in his language. When recounting his suffering in verse two, he says:

‘I was burned out from exhaustion …
Poisoned in the bushes …’

The use of  ‘burned’ and ‘bushes’ associates the narrator with God since it reminds us of God’s appearance to Moses in the form of a burning bush (Exodus 3). He also says he was ‘blown out’, thereby representing himself as a light – a traditional symbolic representation of God.

However, it’s as a man with a man’s fallibilities that the narrator is mostly presented in the song. His status as man is emphasised by his comment about:

‘… men who are fighting to be warm’.

This is because his initially positive reaction to the woman’s offer of shelter suggests that he too is fighting to be warm.

Another line which seems to allude to his human nature is the question:

‘Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?’

In the absence of any other male addressee, it would seem that the ‘man’ the narrator apostrophises is himself.

The Narrator As Christ

In addition to being both God and man, the narrator is Christ. The first indication that it’s Christ who is speaking is apparent from the declaration:

‘I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form’

The allusion is to Christ’s forty days in the desert where he’s tempted to abjure his divinely appointed role and give in to worldly ambition. It’s implied that he ‘came in’ from the wilderness in response to the woman’s offer of shelter, safety and warmth:

‘”Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”’.

Another indication that the narrator is Christ is his use of the phrase ‘I got my signals crossed’. In addition to its primary meaning it hints at the narrator’s coming death by crucifixion. And a further indication is in the observation:

‘… the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount’,

assuming that this is self-referential. The deputy is likely to be Christ, God’s deputy, and especially so if the nails are those driven through his feet to attach him to the cross. The preacher too could be Christ and is even more likely to be, given the ‘mount’ reference. The mount can be taken both as Calvary, the fill on which Christ died, and as the ass on which he entered Jerusalem just prior to his arrest and execution.1

Yet this isn’t quite the Christ of the gospels. The negativity implicit in the phrases ‘blackness was a virtue’ and ‘a creature void of form’ suggests he could equally be seen as the devil coming in from the wilderness. This, then, is an imperfect Christ – Christ the man – a thoroughly human Christ who is far from sure he wants to turn his back on worldly comfort.

Further Imperfection

That the narrator’s is imperfect again becomes apparent in the sixth verse after he decides to forgo the offer of hospitality:

‘Now there’s a wall between us, something there’s been lost …’

By the phrase ‘something there’ the narrator probably means the woman. This is indicated by a previous use of the word ‘there’ in:

‘… she was standing there’,

However, the expression ‘something there’ is vague, as if the narrator has only a dim idea about what it is he’s lost. What’s actually missing for him now is the positive aspect of Christ’s character, the generosity of spirit, which the woman represents.


Imperfection is present again in that he never seems fully to have embraced his divine role. This is particularly apparent in the penultimate verse where the ‘lethal dose’ seems to have taken him by surprise. At that point he was still hoping to live, announcing that he’d:

‘… bargained for salvation …’.

Since the salvation he has in mind seems to have been his own survival, rather than the saving of mankind, this too looks like human weakness.


That he’s imperfect the narrator as good as admits when he says that he got his ‘signals crossed’. While he seems to be acknowledging a mistake in having opted for ‘a place that’s always safe and warm’, the phrase could equally refer to his failure to anticipate his crucifixion as well as to his failure to see its importance:

‘But nothing really matters much, it’s doom alone that counts’.

This is the last thing one might expect Christ to say. In fact plenty should matter, not least the task of redeeming mankind.


The narrator’s human imperfection is also apparent in his concern to avoid danger. The woman’s invitation attracted him because:

‘… there was little risk involved’,

– and even though it meant his divine mission being left ‘unresolved’.


And imperfection is apparent again in that his reference to a ‘futile horn’ makes it seem he has no notion of his own ‘second coming’, his return at the end of the world which is to be announced by Gabriel’s horn:

‘And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn’.

He treats the horn blast as if it’s a mere proclamation of death. Furthermore, while he considers the possibility that he might return, he makes clear it’s no more than a possibility:

‘And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
I’ll always do my best for her, on that I give my word’.

According to traditional Christianity Christ’s second coming is a certainty – not merely an ‘if’. It’s also when he’ll reward the virtuous with eternal life – not just ‘do his best’ for them.

All these imperfections make it clear that the Christ represented by the narrator is a fallible human.

The Woman As God And Christ

Like the narrator, the woman, too, can be seen as embodying aspects of both God and Christ.2

In the final verse the narrator implicitly identifies her with God:

‘If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born’.

If she were just a woman, it’s unlikely that her birth would have been contemporaneous with God’s.

And like the narrator she can be identified with Christ (which in itself would make her one with God). First, we’re constantly reminded of the woman’s generosity which makes her Christ-like:

‘”Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”’

Secondly, in taking the narrator’s burdens, represented by his crown of thorns, onto herself, she literally becomes Christ in that she’s taking on his role.

It’s significant that we’re told that she ‘took‘ his crown of thorns, thus making apparent a contrast between her and the imperfect  narrator who previously ‘took too much for granted’.  In that she acts selflessly, in contrast to the narrator who is more concerned about safety and warmth, and avoiding risk, she is Christ-like in a way that he isn’t

The Woman As Imperfect

Despite her generosity the woman, like the narrator, is not perfect. Just as he suffers from human imperfection, so does she. This is apparent from her wearing:

‘… silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair’.

While the flowers represent her natural side, that the bracelets are silver suggests she’s attracted by luxury. These are perhaps the equivalent of the expensive, seamless garment which Christ was stripped of immediately prior to the crucifixion, and which is alluded to in the penultimate verse:

‘… they gambled for my clothes’.

Also her assumption that it’s acceptable to pursue a quiet life becomes a temptation to the narrator. One set of temptations, by the devil in the wilderness, seems to have been replaced by another temptation from her.


The ideal for both the narrator and the woman might be seen as to become wholly, instead of partially, Christ-like. At present they’re each a duality comprising virtue and imperfection, including virtues and imperfections which the other lacks. Only if they unite will they form a perfect being – the divine Christ – for only then will the narrator’s sacrifice be as consciously chosen as the woman’s, and her attitude be as unmaterialistic as his eventually becomes.

These dualities are reflected in a further duality – God and man.  And this duality is itself reflected in the picture of Christ we get from the narrator’s somewhat cryptic announcement:

‘… the deputy walks on hard nails, the preacher rides a mount’.

‘Hard nails’ represents the side of self-sacrifice associated with the narrator’s crucifixion and the woman’s generosity, whereas riding a mount represents a form of transport associated with the narrator’s desire for comfort and perhaps the woman’s for luxury.

The Wall And The Word

As the narrator looks back, unity between the two aspects of Christ represented by himself and the woman still seems yet to occur. Instead, according to the narrator, a wall separates the one from the other. That the unity is yet to come about may not be the whole truth, however.

Previously, in welcoming the offer of ‘shelter from the storm’, the narrator had been in danger of giving in to his own desire for an easy life. This is reflected in his comment:

‘Not a word was spoke between us …’

There had been, as it were, nothing between them – not even a need for speech – prior to the wall. They’d simply shared the same natural, human, materialistic outlook.

Once the narrator changes tack, however, something does separate their attitudes. The wall which replaces the absence of ‘a word between us’ turns out to be a word. So, where there had been no word, there is now a word:

‘I’ll always do my best for her, on that I give my word’.

On the surface this means that he commits himself to acting generously towards her. However he also seems, unconsciously, to be alluding to the biblical claim,

‘The word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us’ (John 1.14)

in which ‘word’ (Greek ‘logos’) can be taken to mean both God and, in flesh-form, Christ. Thus when ‘give my word’ replaces ‘not a word’, it’s an indication that the narrator- speaking as God – has ceased to be self-centred and – as Christ – has become something given by God to the world.

Although the narrator doesn’t realise it, once he has given himself there is no wall separating him from the woman. His act of generosity coupled with hers amounts to the beginnings of a new unity.2

The Foreign Country And Crossing The Line

The final verse enables us to see what’s been going on both from the narrator’s earthly perspective, and from a heavenly one.

The narrator, Christ, apparently speaking after his resurrection is still:

‘… livin’ in a foreign country’,3

that is, on earth. He’s still a man, and there’s even a hint of human acquisitiveness (reminiscent of his counterpart’s liking for silver bracelets) when he says about beauty (or Beauty):

‘… someday I’ll make it mine’.4

Even so, with the crucifixion over, he’s anticipating ‘crossing the line’ – which might be interpreted as returning to heaven. Meanwhile, he’s dissatisfied. Not only does he have a desire to make beauty his’ – perhaps to possess the woman – but he wants:

‘…to turn back the clock to when God and her were born’.

There are two interesting things about this desire. First, in wanting to return to an ideal past he seems unaware of the significance of his crucifixion. Secondly, his acknowledgement that God and the woman were born together implies that in the distant past they were identical.

The time ‘God and her were born’ would have been either the time of Christ’s birth – the ‘long forgotten morn’ of verse six – or the beginning of time, depending on whether the frame of reference is earth or heaven.  Either way he seems to be treating the woman as having been Christ and therefore as fully identical with God. By turning back the clock, he wants to recreate that identity. And in addition, his desire to make beauty his, can be seen as his wanting to share in that identity.


The narrator seems to acknowledge the desirability of this identity or unity when he says:

‘Beauty walks a razor’s edge …’

The idea seems to be that Beauty – the true, undivided Christ who exists timelessly in heaven – is being split down the middle to become the two aspects of Christ apparent throughout the song. His aim is to restore the unity of Christ, and the unity of Christ with God.

That it is indeed the complete Christ walking the razor’s edge is perhaps corroborated by the use of ‘walks’ in the ‘phrase ‘Beauty walks a razor’s edge. The word ‘walks’ had previously been used in conjunction with both the woman and (arguably) the narrator:

‘She walked up to me so gracefully …’


‘… the deputy walks on hard nails …’


Had he been aware of the significance of the crucifixion, he’d have known that his wish to restore the unity of Christ, and the unity of Christ with God, is unnecessary. There is no need to ‘turn back the clock’ and to make Beauty his. From an eternal perspective his crucifixion and the woman’s generosity have already put an end to their division, thus forming a unified Christ who is identical with God. The clock, as it were, has already been put back, and the line already crossed. The crucifixion has ensured that beauty (the woman), or Beauty (God), is already his.5


The song is doubtless open to other interpretations than the one given here. But even to the extent that this one is justified, it’s still a matter of opinion what it can be said to show. What follows, then, is only a suggestion.

The narrator and the woman are each presented as fallible human beings. To that extent they represent humanity generally – us. The song, I suggest, shows how human beings are to make moral progress or, in religious terms, to achieve redemption. This is achievable without any intervention from a divine Christ. The Christ here is manifestly not divine, at least from an earthly, temporal standpoint. Rather, redemption is achieved by an imperfect man and an imperfect woman who, as a result of the pooling of their moral strengths, and the consequent elimination of their moral weaknesses, become the divine Christ. This is made possible by the narrator and the woman each having strengths and weaknesses which the other lacks.

By the end of the song the narrator and the woman have achieved what their counterpart in the gospels has achieved. Eternally they constitute the divine Christ, while in earthly terms they remain man and woman.



An excellent article by Jochen Markhorst on the Untold Dylan blog yesterday (1.11.18) includes this ‘extra verse’ which seems to have been excluded from the final song:

‘Now the bonds are broken, but they can be retied
By one more journey to the woods, the holes where spirits hide.
It’s a never-ending battle for a peace that’s always torn.
“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm’.

My immediate thoughts are as follows. The first line:

‘Now the bonds are broken, but they can be retied’

immediately seems to fit the interpretation I’ve given. ‘Bonds’ is a word used in religious contexts for the covenant. In the song, then, the breaking of the covenant amounts to the need for Christ’s new covenant. And this new covenant is represented by the future bonds being retied.

A second meaning it might have  is that the bonds between the two aspects of Christ, represented by the narrator and the woman, or between Christ-as-man and God, will be retied after the second coming (‘one more journey’). That reunification is hinted at in the final verse, as I’ve discussed above. If the reunification doesn’t occur until the second coming, then it doesn’t occur until the end of time. That is it occurs from an eternal, but not a temporal perspective.

The ‘never-ending battle’ is presumably the battle between good and evil. It’s never ending in temporal terms, but from an eternal standpoint it’s been won. In a similar way the separation between the two aspects of Christ, and between Christ (as man) and God, is never ending in temporal terms, whereas from an eternal standpoint there’s unity. That unity results from the sacrificial action of the narrator (again, as discussed above).

That the ‘peace is always torn’ seems to imply there’ll never be peace, but again this will be just from a temporal perspective (‘never’ being a temporal word). Accordingly, just as the separation of Christ into partially imperfect parts cannot be ended in time, so neither can peace be restored in time. However it can be, and is, restored eternally by the narrator’s sacrifice.

A hint that even though the battle can’t be won, and peace restored, except outside of time, comes with the word ‘torn’. This is because it reminds us of the tearing of the veil in the temple at the time of the crucifixion. This was a symbol of the reunification of man with God achieved by the crucifixion. It was therefore a symbol of the eternal end to the unending battle between good and evil.

Appendix updated 3.11.19



  1. There are numerous other biblical references. An example would be ‘newborn babies wailin’’ which brings to mind Herod’s massacre of the innocents.
  2. Something else which the narrator and the woman have in common is that they’re both presented as hippies – the woman with ‘flowers in her hair’ and the narrator in using ‘man’ to address someone.
  3. Compare ‘… a better country–a heavenly one’ (Hebrews 11.16). Also, the phrase ‘foreign country’ might be a reference to the opening of The Go-Between by L.P. Hartley: ‘The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there’. What seems to be significant here is that earthly, temporal existence is a foreign country compared to eternal (i.e. non-temporal) heavenly existence. What still has to be done in the former is eternal in the latter. Hartley uses the present tense (‘do things’) to suggest that the past is still going on, eternally, despite having gone from a temporal perspective.
  4. Similarly the phrase ‘I’m bound to cross the line’ reminds us of the narrator’s fallibility by implying that he’ll be going too far – giving in to temptation.
  5. That there is no need to turn the clock back is made clear in another way. The ambiguity about whether the phrase ‘when God and her were born’ refers to the beginning of time or merely to the incarnation suggests that there’s no distinction to be made between these apparently distantly separate times. If there’s no distinction between the times, there’s no point in turning the clock back.





If You See Her, Say Hello


All five verses have the narrator wistfully recounting his thoughts about the woman who has left him. Three have him asking someone to act as an intermediary between him and the woman, while the remaining two represent his private thoughts.

A problem about the song concerns the extent to which the narrator wants to revive the relationship. At times he gives the impression of being far less committed than he makes out. The ambivalence may be due to the flaws in his character which precipitated the break up, and which now prevent him knowing how best to proceed.  As will become apparent, he has a skewed idea about what a relationship requires to be successful and is too ready to find excuses and to cast blame. At times his outlook is made to seem quite laughable.

Ambivalent Attitude

It seems at first as if the narrator is pining for his lost lover. He tries to make contact with her, sends her a kiss, says he respects her, and that he suffers both when he hears her name and when he recalls details of the break up. He also emphasises the distance which now exists between them when he says:

‘… she might be in Tangier’.

The effect of ‘Tangier’ is to make her sound inaccessible. Furthermore the very next line:

‘She left here last early spring, is livin’ there, I hear’

reinforces that distance by its use of the words ‘here’ (and the homophone ‘hear’) applying to his vicinity, and ‘there’ applying to hers.

It becomes apparent, though, that he may be less concerned about renewing the relationship than some of these things suggest. It’s particularly significant, for example, that he doesn’t seek out the woman himself, but is happy to contact her – and send a kiss – via an intermediary.

More importantly, perhaps, this lack of concern is supported by his saying to the intermediary:

‘She might think that I’ve forgotten her, don’t tell her it isn’t so’.

That would be an odd message to send someone you were hoping to restart a relationship with. The word ‘don’t’ makes it clear that he wants her to think his attitude has changed. Either he’s putting on a show of indifference, or else he really is indifferent.

That the narrator lacks desire for any personal contact with the woman is corroborated by the matter of fact way he says:

‘And I hear her name here and there as I go from town to town’.

‘Here and there’ is an imprecise expression. It implies a lack of interest in things associated with her.

The apparent lack of concern continues in the final verse:

‘If she’s passin’ back this way, I’m not too hard to find
Tell her she can look me up if she’s got the time’.

There’s no appearance of enthusiasm. That he thinks she might be ‘passin’ back’ shows that the distance between them is not an obstacle to their meeting in person, yet he makes no effort to make the journey himself. He seems happy enough to see her, but no more than that.

That he’s unconcerned about reviving the relationship might seem to conflict with his obvious suffering. The manner of her leaving, we’re told in verse two:

‘… still brings me a chill’,

and, also in verse two:

‘… our separation, it pierced me to the heart’.

Nevertheless, although the feelings may be genuine, the latter phrase tells us just that he was distraught at the time, not that he is now. And the former alludes to no more than a present reaction to the memory of what was at the time an unwelcome event.

Overall, and strangely for what at first appears to be a love song, it would seem that the narrator is prepared to put little effort into reviving the relationship. The question, then, is why?


One answer is that the narrator is exercising cunning. By showing an absence of concern about reviving the relationship, he’s manipulating the intermediary. This is evident when he instructs the latter to:

‘Say for me that I’m alright’.

Why just ‘alright’?  One suspects it’s part of a device to get the woman to feel sorry for him. He puts on the semblance of a brave face, in order for the intermediary to see through it. The aim is to dupe the intermediary into passing on that he’s more unhappy than he seems. The narrator will go up in her estimations because, by not being open about his unhappiness, he’ll appear to be being strong in adversity.


A second explanation for the narrator’s reticence is that it’s not love that’s uppermost in his mind, but resentment.

This resentment comes across in his bitterness. He even uses the word ‘bitter’:

‘Though the bitter taste still lingers on …’

In so doing, his intention is to criticise the woman and this alone suggests he’s not as enamoured by her as he’d like us to believe.

And his claim that the way she left ‘still brings me a chill’ also suggests that it’s not a loving emotion which subsumes him.

Although he attempts to balance these feelings with the claims that:

‘She still lives inside of  me …’

and that he and the woman have:

‘… never been apart’,

these claims come across as too mushily sentimental to be taken as genuine. If she still ‘lives inside’ him at all, it’s in the unintended sense that she rankles him.

One suspects that the real reason for his saying she lives inside of him is to make him seem beyond reproach. He’s attempting to put the blame for his misery fairly and squarely on her.


The absurdity of the narrator’s approach becomes doubly apparent when we notice that the words ‘lives inside of me’ echo those of St Paul:

‘… it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me’ (Galatians 2.20).

First, the narrator seem to be using the woman’s supposed living in him to justify not living his own life, as if she can live his life for him. Secondly, and relatedly, the idea that there is a comparison to be drawn between his love relationship and the relationship with Christ which St Paul is advocating is ludicrous. St Paul is advocating allowing Christian ideals to replace one’s own more selfish outlook. There’s no way that this has a counterpart in a romantic relationship. By using Paul’s language out of context, the narrator makes himself ridiculous.

The ludicrousness of the narrator’s approach is compounded when he goes onto say in verse four:

‘And I hear her name here and there as I go from town to town’

It’s significant that this line echoes the earlier line from verse one:

‘She left here last early spring, is livin’ there, I hear

The lines each contain ‘here’, ‘there’ and the homophone ‘hear’, but whereas the focus in verse one was on the geographical distance between ‘here’ and ‘there’ – their respective vicinities – now, with her supposedly ‘inside of him’, neither ‘here’ nor ‘there’ matters.

The absurdity of this change of focus becomes apparent when we realise that the narrator seems to be unconsciously travestying a further biblical text:

‘Neither shall they say, See here! or, see there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you’ (Luke 17.21).

While Luke wants us to believe that ‘here’ and ‘there’ don’t matter if God is within you, the narrator is saying they don’t matter if the woman is within you!

Once more the allusion seems heavily ironic to the point of ridiculous. It doesn’t even make sense for the ex-lover to be primarily within (‘inside of’) the narrator in the way Luke thinks the kingdom of God is. Luke is using metaphorical language to make a point about moral living which simply has no counterpart in a romantic relationship.

Narrator’s and Woman’s Contrasting Attitudes to Life

 While the narrator’s echoing of Paul and Luke seem intended, ridiculously, to imply that he has discovered a superior way of living, it becomes clear that the opposite is the case. For example, in the final verse we encounter the phrase:

‘Sundown, yellow moon …’.

Although presumably chosen for its romantic connotations, this image of nightfall has the unintended effect of associating the narrator with death. And, ironically given the allusions to Paul and Luke, ‘sundown’ (Son-down) suggests spiritual death – death without resurrection.

That the narrator’s approach is tantamount to giving up on life is reinforced by the very next phrase:

‘… I replay the past’.

Instead of looking ahead to a new life, he looks back on the one that’s gone.1

By contrast, the woman looks ahead:

‘She left here last early spring, is livin’ there, I hear’

Spring represents the new life for which she left the narrator. And the reference to ‘living’ in the second half of the line makes it clear that she, unlike the narrator, is going to make the effort to live.

Further Religious Imagery

There’s further irony in what is presumably another (presumably unconscious) biblical reference. The narrator claims that the woman’s departure:

‘… pierced me to the heart’.

This presents her as one of those who tormented Christ, and has him putting himself in the position of Christ. (‘But one of the soldiers with a spear pierced his side, and forthwith came there out blood and water’ (John 19.34). Again it’s hard to see how the implicit glorification of himself, together this time with the denigration of the woman, can be justified.

In fact a further implicit biblical reference suggests the opposite. His offering her a kiss, albeit by proxy, makes her Christ and him a Judas-like tormentor (Mark 14.44).2

Narrator’s Character

That the narrator’s implicit comparisons with himself and Christ are ironic becomes even more apparent from the insights into his character we’re afforded from reading between the lines of what he says. Even things which suggest he’s well intentioned, genuinely bereft, and perhaps deserving of our sympathy, can also be interpreted as highlighting  flaws in his character.


He unintentionally betrays how domineering he can be when he declares:

‘Oh whatever makes her happy, I won’t stand in the way’.

While his intention is the opposite – to let it be known that he won’t be restrictive – the mere fact he raises the subject causes suspicion. Why does he need to offer the assurance, unless to allay fears that he would in fact stand in the way? Furthermore, to the extent that the narrator is out to revive the relationship, and the woman isn’t, it would be difficult to see him as not standing in her way.

It’s also rather odd that he’s offering that assurance to the person he’s addressing. This may be because he’s hoping he’ll pass it on, but it might also be because he expects this person too to see him as obstructive.


A second reason for seeing the narrator as domineering is his reference to:

‘… the night I tried to make her stay’

The expression ‘make her stay’ could be taken as implying compulsion – that he was requiring her to stay whether she wanted to or not.


Thirdly, his approach in the song is itself a sign of an over-dominant character. It comes across as a series of instructions to the addressee – ‘say hello’, ‘say for me’, don’t tell her’,kiss her’, and  ‘Tell her she can look me up …’

Furthermore, in this last case it’s not just the intermediary who is being bossed about. It’s the woman too in that a way of getting in contact is being set out for her. His addition of

‘… if she’s got the time’

seems no more than an insincere attempt to be conciliatory. It’s clear from the end of the immediately preceding line:

‘I’m not that hard to find’,

that he wouldn’t accept lack of time as an excuse for her failing to look him up.


 Further evidence of his domineering character is contained in the line:

‘Always have respected her in doing what she did in gettin’ free’

We might want to applaud the generosity implicit here if we didn’t wonder what precisely the woman can have done to merit his respect. It can’t simply be that she left him, because he’s still bitter about that. The key words would seem to be ‘in gettin’ free’. If so, it must be that he respects her for having escaped, and this can only be because he’d been effectively imprisoning her.


Finally, that he’s domineering comes across from his not shying away from appearing self-critical:

‘Either I’m too sensitive or else I’m getting’ soft’

On the surface this appears as an honest admittance of a fault. However it’s more than that. Not only does it seem to be said in the hope of hearing it denied, so that it’s a covert appeal for sympathy, but – in the absence of any evidence that he’s either too sensitive or soft – it appears calculated to remove any idea that the narrator is dominating. Softness, in particular, suggests the opposite.

False Self-Praise

There’s another type of falsity apparent in the lines leading up to the one about being too sensitive:

‘And I hear her name here and there as I go from town to town
And I’ve never gotten used to it, I’ve just learned to turn it off’

The narrator claims his response to the discomfort of hearing the woman’s name has been ‘to turn it off’. But by his own admission he’s only heard her name ‘here and there’, and presumably over quite a long time since it’s been as a result of traveling to different towns. What, then, has he learned to turn off’? There doesn’t seem to have been very much. Again, rather than actually suffering from constantly hearing the woman’s name (assuming that that’s what ‘it’ refers to), the narrator must be trying to elicit sympathy. It’s not that he’s over-sensitive, so much as that he wants to others to believe that he’s over-sensitive.

There’s further irony here in that despite there being nothing appreciable to turn off, the narrator’s complaining would suggest that he’s not turned anything off anyway.


The narrator Is hard to please. On the one hand he complains that things are getting ‘kind of slow’. On the other he complains that the past ‘all went by so fast’. Both these things might be true. Nevertheless, if he dislikes life slowing down, it’s somewhat odd that he complains when things move quickly. Alternatively, if he prefers things to move quickly, it’s odd that he complains when they slow down.

This suggests that he’s not being wholly honest. Rather than giving an accurate account of his feelings, he may once again be seizing on opportunities to elicit sympathy. For example, if we take the claim that everything went by ‘so fast’ at face value, that in itself might suggest the time he and the woman were together was not as good as he’s making out. The greater the number of happy occasions there were, the more time they would have taken. As it is, there were sufficiently few such occasions for him to know ‘every scene by heart’.

Unduly Romantic

The narrator’s understanding of love seems shallow. One feels that he gets pleasure out of presenting himself as a forsaken lover.

Again he makes himself laughable by taking on the role of the fictitious medieval courtly lover – not just by pining for the woman, but by using an intermediary to intercede for him.3

That he sees himself in a traditional romantic role is apparent when he says:

‘We had a falling out, like lovers often will’

In itself the second clause is redundant.  It’s irrelevant that other lovers are often in the same boat. However, by showing his situation to be typical of theirs the narrator is able to distract from his own responsibility for the break up.

This presenting himself as a romantic occurs again in the final verse:

‘Sundown, yellow moon …’

By using the language of love songs to describe real life, he’s showing he has a rather skewed idea of what a relationship needs to be. And in the light of this it’s hardly surprising that the woman has left him.


This is an unusual love song. The narrator, while apparently pining for his departed lover, seem unenthusiastic about making contact again. Numerous biblical allusions seem to mock his outlook and emphasise the contrast between the woman’s forward-looking, life-affirming approach and his own orientation towards the past.

As the song progresses we become aware of numerous flaws in the narrator’s character which might have contributed to the break up and to the dishonesty of his response to it. He’s bitter, domineering, false, inconsistent and has an over romanticised view of what a loving relationship entails. He seems more concerned with justifying himself and getting his own back than in reviving the relationship.



1. Like Orpheus, and the consequence is the same – failure to bring the woman back.

2. Another biblical reference has him comparing the two of them to man in his ‘fallen’ state:

‘We had a fallin’ out …’

It is this fallen state from which the woman recovers when she begins a new life, but from which he doesn’t when he focuses on his previous life.

He may also be being presented as making a further implicit comparison of himself with Christ – this time Christ’s second coming in the phrase ‘as I make the rounds’.

3. The narrator is thus a counterpart of Chaucer’s Absolon in The Miller’s Tale.