gathered on a mountain top. Far, far away. There were mixed feelings inside of them. What will he do? (...) The faith is born from what is heard. How can they hear if no one is there to tell them? Go to [...] gott trekk at byrja við hesum lagnum, tí tað slær til og dregur hugan beinanvegin. Seinna lagið »God is there« byrjar rátt við distortion á rútmusektiónini og røddini. Skiftir síðani yvir í reinan klang

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 ­ Mr Tambourine Man vísir [...] selling postcards of the hanging They´re painting the passports brown The beauty parlor is filled with sailors The circus is in town Here comes the blind commissioner They´ve got him in a trance ... ­ Hvat hendir [...] Home, frá 1965, man vera ein tann kendasti sangurin hjá Dylan, men kanska hava ikki øll givið sær far um, hvat hann í grundini sigur. Vit hitta yrkjaran eina náttina í stórbýnum, hann er einsamallur og