Författare, bloggare, skribenter slåss om att skriva undergångshistorier. Sanningen är att Bob Dylan skrev facit redan sommaren 1962. Det var kring Kubakrisen, men Dylan går även ingenom fattigdom, rasism och miljöförstöring. Alla andra kan lukta på kaffet och lägga ner pennan.
Bjuder på ett sammandrag:
I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways
I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
Where black is the color, where none is the number
Then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’.
And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard.
It’s A Hard Rain´s a-Gonna fall.
