doreen peri wrote:
"Noweigian Wood" might fit in good .....
Several sources, including the late George Harrison, said
Norwegian Wood/This Bird Has Flown and Dylan's
Fourth Time Around are the same song too.
.." Dylan once wrote a song called "Fourth Time Around." To my mind, it was about how John and Paul, from listening to Bob's early stuff, had written "Norwegian Wood." Judging from the title, it seemed as though Bob had listened to that and wrote the same basic song again, calling it "Fourth Time Around." The title suggests that the same basic tune kept bouncing around over and over again."
--George Harrison
http://www.iol.ie/~beatlesireland/harri ... rview3.htm
I once had a girl,
Or should I say
She once had me.
She showed me her room,
Isn’t it good?
Norwegian wood.
She asked my to stay and she told me to sit anywhere,
So I looked around and I noticed there wasn’t a chair.
I sat on a rug
Biding my time,
Drinking her wine.
We talked until two,
And then she said,
‘It’s time for bed’.
She told me she worked in the morning and started to laugh,
I told her I didn’t, and crawled off to sleep in the bath.
And when I awoke
I was alone,
This bird has flown,
So I lit a fire,
Isn’t it good?
Norwegian wood.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When she said,
"Don't waste your words, they're just lies,"
I cried she was deaf.
And she worked on my face until breaking my eyes,
Then said, "What else you got left?"
It was then that I got up to leave
But she said, "Don't forget,
Everybody must give something back
For something they get."
I stood there and hummed,
I tapped on her drum and asked her how come.
And she buttoned her boot,
And straightened her suit,
Then she said, "Don't get cute."
So I forced my hands in my pockets
And felt with my thumbs,
And gallantly handed her
My very last piece of gum.
She threw me outside,
I stood in the dirt where ev'ryone walked.
And after finding I'd
Forgotten my shirt,
I went back and knocked.
I waited in the hallway, she went to get it,
And I tried to make sense
Out of that picture of you in your wheelchair
That leaned up against . . .
Her Jamaican rum
And when she did come, I asked her for some.
She said, "No, dear."
I said, "Your words aren't clear,
You'd better spit out your gum."
She screamed till her face got so red
Then she fell on the floor,
And I covered her up and then
Thought I'd go look through her drawer.
And, when I was through
I filled up my shoe
And brought it to you.
And you, you took me in,
You loved me then
You didn't waste time.
And I, I never took much,
I never asked for your crutch.
Now don't ask for mine.
)