There he stands, and who can believe him? Black corduroy cap, green corduroy shirt, blue corduroy pants. Hard-lick guitar, whooping harmonica, skinny little voice. Beardless chin, shaggy sideburns, porcelain pussy-cat eyes. At 22, he looks 14, and his accent belongs to a jive Nebraskan, or maybe a Brooklyn hillbilly. He is a dime-store philosopher, a drugstore cowboy, a men's room conversationalist. And when he describes his young life, he declares himself dumbfounded at the spectacle. "With my thumb out, my eyes asleep, my hat turned up an' my head turned on," says Bob Dylan, "I'm driftin' and learnin' new lessons."
from "Time" 1963
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"And it's all over now, baby blue ...."