continuing bigtooI05's post:
"Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind,
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves,
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach,
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands,
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today until tomorrow.
Hey! Mr, Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to..."
The Tambourine Man was obviously his pusher.
These lines read like a collaboration between Leonard Cohen, Townes Van Zandt and Edgar Allan Poe. It doesn't get much better than this.
All of you clowns who have been putting down Dylan for years can now turn your negativity (which can't pull you through) towards the Nobel Prize selectors. I'm sure you're a lot more qualified to judge great writing than they are..