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Visions of Johanna Bob Dylan

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GAint it just like the night to play
CTricks when yDou're tryinGg to G/Cbe so Gquiet
We sGit here strandeCd, all doiDng our besGt toG/C denyG it
And LoDuise holds a handful of raGin tempting you to defy it
LighCts flicker froGm the opposite loft
In tChis room the heatpGipes just coughed
The cCountry music station plays soft,
But there's nothing, realDly nothing to turn off
JustG Louise,C and Dher loGver sG/Co entwGined
And thesCe VisionGs of JohaDnna, that Gconquer my mind


In the empty lot where the ladies play Blind Mans Bluff with the keychain
& the Allnite girls they whisper of escapades out on the D-Train
Where you can hear the nightwatchman click his flashlight
Ask himself if it's him or them that's insane
Louise, she's alright she's just near
She's delicate, and seems like the mirror
But she just makes it all too concise and too clear
That Johanna's not here
The ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face
And these Visions of Johanna have taken my place

Now Little Boy Lost, he takes himself so seriously
He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously
And when bringing her name up, he speaks of a farewell kiss to me
He's sure got a lotta gall, to be so useless and all
Muttering small talk at the wall, while I'm in the hall
How can I explain, it's so hard to get on
And these Visions of Johanna, they kept me up past the dawn

Inside the museums, infinity goes up on trial
Voices echo this is what salvation must be like after a while
But Mona Lisa must've had the highway blues
You can tell by the way she smiles
See the primitive wallflower frieze
When the jelly-faced women all sneeze
Hear the one with the moustache say
Jeez, I can't find my knees!
Oh jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule
And these Visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel

The pedlar now speaks to the countess who's pretending to care for him
Saying 'name me someone who's not a parasite,
and I'll go out and say a prayer for him'
But like Louise always says 'you can't look at much, can you man'
as she herself prepares for him
And Madonna she still has not showed
We see this empty cage now corrode
Where her cape of the stage once had flowed
The fiddler now steps into the road
He writes 'everythings been returned which was owed'
On the back of the fishtruck that loads
While my conscience explodes
The harmonicas play the skeleton keys in the rain
And these Visions of Johanna are now all that remain


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