Subterranean Homesick Blues

“Subterranean Homesick Blues”

Bob Dylan received the Nobel Prize for Literature, although at the time of me writing this, he has yet to accept. Like many people, I’ve had moments of clarity borne from Dylan’s lovely lyrics. I went to see him play live 12 years ago or so and I wasn’t disappointed. I swayed with the audience to his beautiful blues and heartfelt verse. Always matching the words to my own life experience and coming away feeling lighter and happier.

“I want you, Baby I want you, I want you, so baaaad…”

“Hey Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me, I’m not sleepy and I have no place I’m going to….”

“Come in, she said I’ll give ya shelter from the storm….”

Dylan can sing us all through, he can get us through it all.

This last week I’ve found myself submerged in my own blues again, and as it happens, homesickness was one of the triggers. Feeling a day unfurl a little less easily than the day before, wondering if this is the start of another slip into blues then finding the next day is a little harder. I grasp at lyrics, poetry, a sympathiser that I don’t have to explain myself to.

Sometimes the lyrics aren’t enough but the melody takes you and the music is all you need.

Homesickness is true pain. It really is sickness, you feel it radiate throughout your body. It grips your stomach, it tightens your chest, it makes your limbs tingle and your head is light. Add to that the tears, the exhaustion and the adrenaline and you know the stress that homesickness imposes on your body.

I first felt it as a child, packed off to boarding school only a fortnight after our Father had died. It was obvious that I’d be a candidate, having suffered extreme separation anxiety from my Mother throughout childhood. Now I was homesick for a home that was miles away and not the same home I’d grown up in. Every night myself and other boarders would fall into restless exhausted sleep, tear soaked night dresses and pillow cases. I would lie on my side, teddy bear suffocating the sobs, little body shaking under the covers, hands clenched between my knees. Hoping for a smell from home in my covers but the snotty nose stifling any other scent.

Finally the room would quiet, shaking little bodies drifting away to safer dreams. I’d wake in the morning and the reality would hit like a lightening bolt as the lights were switched on and the get up call reverberated around the room. Another day of subterranean homesick blues. Bob Dylan’s lyrics may not fit the 10 year old girl in boarding school but the song did and it still gets to me today. Bob Dylan writes lyrics and music for the very purpose that we need it.

Subterranean Homesick Blues – Bob Dylan

Johny’s in the basement

Mixing up the medicine

I’m on the pavement

Thinking about the government

The man in a trench coat

Badge out, laid off

Says he’s got a bad cough

Wants to get it paid off

Look out kid

It’s somethin’ you did

God knows when

But you’re doin’ it again

You better duck down the alley way

Lookin’ for a new friend

A man in a coon-skin cap

In a pig pen

Wants eleven dollar bills

You only got ten.

Maggie comes fleet foot

Face full of black soot

Talkin’ that the heat put

Plants in the bed but

The phone’s tapped anyway

Maggie says that many say

They must bust in early May

Orders from the DA

Look out kid

Don’t matter what you did

Walk on your tip toes

Don’t tie no bows

Better stay away from those

That carry around a fire hose

Keep a clean nose

Wash the plain clothes

You don’t need a weather man

To know which way the wind blows.

Get sick, get well

Hang around an ink well

Ring bell, hard to tell

If anything’s gonna sell

Try hard, get barred

Get back, write Braille

Get jailed, jump bail Join the army, if you fail

Look out kid

You’re gonna get hit

But losers, cheaters

Six-time users

Hang around the theaters

Girl by the whirlpool is

Lookin’ for a new fool

Don’t follow leaders

Watch the parkin’ meters.

Ah get born, keep warm

Short pants, romance, learn to dance

Get dressed, get blessed

Try to be a success

Please her, please him, buy gifts

Don’t steal, don’t lift

Twenty years of schoolin’

And they put you on the day shift

Look out kid

They keep it all hid

Better jump down a manhole

Light yourself a candle

Don’t wear sandals

Try to avoid the scandals

Don’t wanna be a bum

You better chew gum

The pump don’t work

‘Cause the vandals took the handles.

By Lizzie

I set up this website as a platform for my creativity. My writing....fiction and blogs and my #charitablecreatures. I am a Maths Teacher but have taken a break from teaching to concentrate on my writing and on my family and pets.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *