Visions Of Johanna Lyrics - Blonde On Blonde - Bob Dylan

Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quiet? 

We'll sit here stranded though we're all doing our best to deny it 

And Louise holds a handful of rain 

Tempting you to defy it 

Lights flicker from the opposite loft 

In this room the heat pipes just cough 

The country music station plays soft 

But there's nothing, really nothing to turn off 

Just Louise 

And her lover, so entwined 

And these visions of Johanna 

That conquer my mind 

In the empty lot where the ladies play blind man's bluff with the key chain 

And the all-night girls, they whisper of escapades out on the D Train 

We can hear the nightwatchman click his flashlight 

Ask himself if it's him or them that's insane 

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Louise, she's alright, she's just near 

Like silk she's delicate and seems like the mirror 

But she makes it all to concise and clear 

That Johanna's not here 

The ghost of electricity 

Howls in the bones of her face 

Where these visions of Johanna 

Have now 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 lot of gall 

To be so useless and all 

Muttering small talk at the wall 

While I'm in the hall 

Photos 

Oh, how can I explain? 

It's so hard to get on 

And these visions of Johanna 

They've 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 have had the highway blues 

You can tell by the way she smiles 

See the primitive wallflower freeze 

When the jelly-faced women all sneeze 

Hear the one with the mustache say "Jeez, 

I can't find my knees" 

Both jewels and binoculars 

Hang from the head of the mule 

But these visions of Johanna 

They make it all seem so cruel 

The peddler now speaks to the countess who's pretending to care for him 

Saying, "Name me someone that'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 

My Madonna, she still has not showed 

We see this empty cage now corrode 

Where her cape of the stage once had flowed 

The fiddler, he now steps to the road 

He writes "Everything's been returned which was owed" 

On the back of the fish truck that loads 

While my conscience explodes 

The harmonicas play 

The skeleton keys and the rain 

And these visions of Johanna 

Are now all that remain