Shot Of Love sessions 11 Apr. 1981 (Biograph)
G Bm Em C G Bm/f# D C
G Bm
She was the rose of Sharon from paradise lost
Em C
From the city of seven hills near the place of the cross.
G Bm/f# Em D C
I was playing a show in Miami in the theater of divine comedy.
Told about Jesus, told about the rain,
She told me about the jungle where her brothers were slain
By the man who invented iron and disappeared so mysteriously. *)
Was she a child or an angel? Did we go too far?
Were we sniped the bait? Did we follow a star
through a hole in the wall to where the long arm of the law cannot reach.
Could I've been used and played as a pawn?
It certainly was possible as the gay night wore on
Where men bathed in perfume and practiced the hoax of free speech.
C D G C
And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
G C D
Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire
C D G C
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
G C D G
Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.
Sea breeze blowin’, there’s a hellhound loose Redeemed men who have escaped from the noose Preaching faith and salvation, waitin’ on the night to arrive. He was well connected, but her heart was a snare And she had left him to die in there, He was goin’ down slow, just barely stayin’ alive. The cry of the peacock, flies buzz in my head, Ceiling fan broken, there’s a heat in my bed, Street band playing “Nearer My God to Thee.” We met at the station where the mission bells ring, She said, “I know what you’re thinking, but there ain’t a thing you can do about it, so let us just agree to agree.”
And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free, Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.
Atlantic City by the cold grey sea I hear a voice crying, “Daddy,” I always think it’s for me, But it’s only the silence in the buttermilk hills that calls. Every new messenger bringing evil report ’Bout armies on the march and time that is short An’ famines and earthquakes and train wrecks and the tearin’ down of the walls. Did you ever have a dream that you couldn’t explain? Did you ever meet your accusers face to face in the rain? She had chrome brown eyes that I won’t forget as long as she’s gone. I see the screw breaking loose, see the devil pounding on tin, I see a house in the country being torn apart from within. I can hear my ancestors calling from the land far beyond.
And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free, Bringing everything that's near to me nearer to the fire.
*) The “Alternate lyrics” from the Not a House homepage has ”By a man who danced on the roof of the embassy.”
Fox Warfield theatre, San Francisco November 12, 1980
Released on The Bootleg Series Vol. 13: Trouble No More 1979–1981
She was from Haiti, fair brown and intense
[… that woman in love … ]
Playin’ a show in Miami, in the theater of divine comedy
Told about Jesus, told about the rain,
She told me about the vision, told me about the pain
that had risen from the ashes and abided in her memory.
Was she a child or a woman? I really can’t say,
Something about her said, “Trust me” anyway
As the days turned to minutes and the minutes turned back into hours.
What if I am used, played as a pawn
It certainly was possible as the gay night wore on
But victory was mine, and I held it with the help of God’s power.
And the Caribbean wind still blows from Trinidad to Mexico
From the circle of light into the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that’s near to me nearer to the fire.
Shadows drew closer as we touched on the floor
Prodigal son sitting next to the door
Preaching resistance, waitin’ for the night to arrive.
He was well connected, but her heart was a snare
As she had left him to die in there,
But I knew he could get out while he still was alive.
Stars on my balcony, buzz in my head
[Stay on my pillow], heat in my bed
Street band playing “Nearer My God to Thee.”
Meetin’ at the steeple where the mission bells ring
She said, “I know what you’re thinking, but there ain’t a thing
you can do about it, so you might as well agree to agree’.’
And them Caribbean wind blows hard from the Valley coast into my backyard
[flamin’] of your love to the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that’s near to me nearer to the fire.
Atlantic City by the cruel sea
I hear a voice crying, “Daddy,” I always think it’s for me,
But it’s only the silence in the buttermilk hills that calls.
Every new messenger bringing evil report
About rioting armies, and time it is short
And earthquakes and trainwrecks and murder threats written on walls.
Would I have married her? I don’t know, I suppose.
She had bells in her braids, and they hung to her toes
The curtain was risin’ and like they say, the ship would sail at dawn.
And I felt it come over me, some kind of gloom
I’s gonna say, “Come on with me girl, I got plenty of room.”
But I knew I’d be lyin’, and besides she had already gone.
And them Caribbean winds still howl from the Tokyo to the British Isles
Bringing everything to that furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everything that’s near to me nearer to the fire.
Pedal steel demo, 23 sept 1980
Released on The Bootleg Series Vol. 13: Trouble No More 1979–1981
She was from Haiti, fair brown and intense
I don’t think she’d ever known about innocence
I’s playing a show in Miami, in the theater of mystery
Told about Jesus, told about the rain,
She told me about the vision, told me about the pain
That had risen from the ashes and abided in her memory.
Was she a virtuous woman? I really can’t say,
Something about her said, “Trust me” anyway
As the days turned to minutes and the minutes turned back into hours.
Pretended to be sleepin’, and he thought I was
But I was only paying attention like a rattlesnake does
When he’s hearin’ footsteps tramplin’ on the flowers.
The Caribbean winds still blow from Mexico to Curaçao
From Chinatown to the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on the iron waves so bold and free,
Bringing everyone that’s near to me closer to the fire.
Well, our shadows drew closer till they touched on the floor
Prodigal son’s waiting close to the door
Preaching of sanity, waitin’ for the night to arrive.
He was well connected, but her heart was a snare
She had left him to die in there
But I knew I could get him out while he still was alive.
Now there’s stars on the balcony, flies buzz my head
Ceiling fan’s broken, there’s heat in my bed
Street band playing “Nearer My God to Thee.”
She looked into my eyes, I hear the mission bells ring
She said, “I know what you’re thinking, but there ain’t a thing
you can do about it, so you might as well let it be.”
Atlantic City by the cruel sea
I hear a voice crying, “Daddy,” I always think it’s for me,
But it’s only the silence in the buttermilk hills that calls.
Every new messenger bringing evil report
About armies that are rioting, excuses are short
And them earthly gargoyles, and hate words written on walls.
Would I have married her? I don’t know, I suppose.
She had bells in her braids, fire in her clothes
The curtain was risin’; like they say: the show must go on.
And I felt it come over me, some kind of gloom
I’s gonna say, “Come on with me, I got plenty of room.”
But I knew I’d be lyin’, and besides she had already gone.
Shot Of Love sessions 31.03.1981
This version is issued on the Genuine Bootleg Series Vol.1. Slightly different arrangement, most prominently the turn to Em between the verses.
G D/f# Bm
She was well rehearsed, fair brown and blonde
Em /e /d C
She had friends who was busboys and friends in the Pentagon
G Bm/f# Em D C F C
playing a show in Miami in the theater of divine comedy.
Talked in the shadows where they talked in the rain
I could tell she was still feelin’ the pain
Pain of rejection, pain of infidelity.
Was she a child or a woman, I can’t say which
From one to another she could to easily switch
Couples were dancin’ an’ I lost track of the hours.
He was well prepared, I knew he was,
Paying attention like a rattlesnake does
When he’s hearin’ footsteps tramplin’ over his flowers.
F C G
And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
F C G
From the circle of ice to the furnace of desire.
F C G
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free,
F C Am
Bringing everything that’s near to me nearer to the fire.
Em . . . Em . . . Am . . .
Em . . . Em . . . Am . . .
Em . . . Em . . . Bm . . . Am . . .
Em . . . Em . . .
She looked into my soul through the clothes that I wore She said, “We got a mutual friend standin’ at the door, And you know he’s got our best interest in mind.” He was well-connected but her heart was a snare And she had left him to die in there, He had payments due and he was a little behind. Well I slept in a hotel where flies buzz my head Ceiling fan was broken, there was heat in my bed, Street band playing “Nearer My God to Thee.” We met in secret where we drank from a spring She said, “I know what you’re thinking, but there ain’t a thing we can do about it, so we might as well let it be.
Atlantic City, two years to the day I hear her voice cryin’, “Daddy!” and I look that way But it’s only the silence in the buttermilk hills that calls. Every new messenger bringing evil report ’Bout riotin’ armies and time that is short An’ earthquakes and train wrecks and hate words scribbled on walls. Would I have married her? I don’t know, I suppose. She had bells in her braids and they hung to her toes But I heard my mirrored destiny said to be movin’ on. And I felt it come over me, some kind of gloom Gonna say, “Come on with me girl, I got plenty of room.” But I knew I’d be lyin’ and besides she had already gone.