Bob Dylan, Murder Most Foul

Murder Most Foul
   By Bob Dylan 

’Twas a dark day in Dallas, November, ’63

A day that will live on in infamy

President Kennedy was a-ridin’ high

Good day to be livin’ and a good day to die

Being led to the slaughter like a sacrificial lamb

He said, “Wait a minute, boys, you know who I am?”

“Of course we do, we know who you are!”

Then they blew off his head while he was still in the car

Shot down like a dog in broad daylight

Was a matter of timing and the timing was right

You got unpaid debts, we’ve come to collect

We’re gonna kill you with hatred, without any respect

We’ll mock you and shock you and we’ll put it in your face

We’ve already got someone here to take your place

The day they blew out the brains of the king

Thousands were watching, no one saw a thing

It happened so quickly, so quick, by surprise

Right there in front of everyone’s eyes

Greatest magic trick ever under the sun

Perfectly executed, skillfully done

Wolfman, oh wolfman, oh wolfman howl

Rub-a-dub-dub, it’s a murder most foul

 

[Verse 2]

 

Hush, little children, you’ll understand

The Beatles are comin’, they’re gonna hold your hand

Slide down the banister, go get your coat

Ferry ‘cross the Mersey and go for the throat

There’s three bums comin’ all dressed in rags

Pick up the pieces and lower the flags

I’m goin’ to Woodstock, it’s the Aquarian Age

Then I’ll go to Altamont and sit near the stage

Put your head out the window, let the good times roll

There’s a party going on behind the Grassy Knoll

Stack up the bricks, pour the cement

Don’t say Dallas don’t love you, Mr. President

Put your foot in the tank and then step on the gas

Try to make it to the triple underpass

Blackface singer, whiteface clown

Better not show your faces after the sun goes down

Up in the red light district, they’ve got cop on the beat

Living in a nightmare on Elm Street

When you’re down on Deep Ellum, put your money in your shoe

Don’t ask what your country can do for you

Cash on the ballot, money to burn

Dealey Plaza, make a left-hand turn

I’m going down to the crossroads, gonna flag a ride

The place where faith, hope, and charity lie

Shoot him while he runs, boy, shoot him while you can

See if you can shoot the invisible man

Goodbye, Charlie! Goodbye, Uncle Sam!

Frankly, Miss Scarlett, I don’t give a damn

What is the truth, and where did it go?

Ask Oswald and Ruby, they oughta know

“Shut your mouth,” said a wise old owl

Business is business, and it’s a murder most foul

 

[Verse 3]

 

Tommy, can you hear me? I’m the Acid Queen

I’m riding in a long, black Lincoln limousine

Ridin’ in the backseat next to my wife

Headed straight on in to the afterlife

I’m leaning to the left, I got my head in her lap

Hold on, I’ve been led into some kind of a trap

Where we ask no quarter, and no quarter do we give

We’re right down the street, from the street where you live

They mutilated his body and they took out his brain

What more could they do? They piled on the pain

But his soul was not there where it was supposed to be at

For the last fifty years they’ve been searchin’ for that

Freedom, oh freedom, freedom over me

I hate to tell you, mister, but only dead men are free

Send me some lovin’, then tell me no lie

Throw the gun in the gutter and walk on by

Wake up, little Susie, let’s go for a drive

Cross the Trinity River, let’s keep hope alive

Turn the radio on, don’t touch the dials

Parkland hospital, only six more miles

You got me dizzy, Miss Lizzy, you filled me with lead

That magic bullet of yours has gone to my head

I’m just a patsy like Patsy Cline

Never shot anyone from in front or behind

I’ve blood in my eye, got blood in my ear

I’m never gonna make it to the new frontier

Zapruder’s film I seen night before

Seen it thirty-three times, maybe more

It’s vile and deceitful, it’s cruel and it’s mean

Ugliest thing that you ever have seen

They killed him once and they killed him twice

Killed him like a human sacrifice

The day that they killed him, someone said to me, “Son

The age of the Antichrist has just only begun”

 Air Force One comin’ in through the gate

 Johnson sworn in at 2:38

Let me know when you decide to throw in the towel

It is what it is, and it’s murder most foul

“Huitramannaland: The unknown history of America / ‘Cra, Cran and the diluvial tradition in the Selk’nam subculture’” / Rafael Videla Eissmann

Rafael Videla Eissmann is a Chilean historian and lecturer who has authored two published books on Atlantis– Desde la Atlántida and Los Dioses Extraterrestres: El Regreso de B’Olon Yokte’ K’Uh = The Extraterrestrial Gods  along with numerous scholaraly articles, and articles in Nexus magazine including an interview with Chariots of the Gods author, Erich von Däniken. The Swill Bucket is pleased to begin reprinting Eissmann’s recent work from his website: Huitramannaland: The unknown history of America

Cra, Cran y la tradición diluvial en el sustrato cultural selk’nam (Cra, Cran and the diluvial tradition among the Selk’nam)