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The Truth (2016) – “What a pretentious title.” Agreed. This is not intended as a slag against Bob Dylan (one of my dad’s was offended), it’s just that his origin story was just one I’ve always found interesting, particularly after I became a big Woody Guthrie fan. Also, regarding the second verse -- note the date – most of this was written before the election of 2016. Some storms are pretty easy to predict.

Lyrics

The Truth
Bobby left a notebook in the back of the bus
(they give prizes for that, it’s true)
With some stories and the line “in Woody Guthrie we trust”
(maybe a little Pete Seeger, too)
So he went to find his hero and to sing him his songs
(from all his hard travelin’ blues)
He could barely play a note but he could still hum along
(there’s some tricks that we never lose)
At Brooklyn Hospital they told him
“Son, things don’t look good”
So he skulked around the Greenwich neighborhood

Everybody’s looking for that eye in the sky
To tell them what they think they oughta do
Trust me when I tell you he’s still searching to find
The final verse to “Tangled up in Blue”
When you spend half your life being somebody else
Believing in yourself is hard to do
Change your name, take the train to New York from Duluth
But what good is three chords when you can’t find the truth?
Donnie’s only purpose was to make Daddy proud
(so he followed his steps through)
‘Til he found he had a talent for igniting the crowd
(including shots on 5th Avenue)
He told the people what they wanna hear and acted tough
And when that didn’t work, he’d make shit up

Everybody’s looking for a savior to buy
But this one seemed to come out of the blue
I used to think I understood my people now I
acknowledge that I never had a clue
Now we don’t seem to trust the folks who furnish the facts
Don’t bother us with evidence or proof
You can call it all a hoax, say they rigged the voting booth
You can whine all you want but you can’t hide the truth

Lately I can barely even finish a thought
(should we tell them your age now, too?)
Hate me, judge me fairly or just leave me to rot
(with just a little self-pity, too)
And after all this time you’d think I’d know by now
That’s it’s a secret club and I’m not allowed
Everybody’s thinks they’re good at spotting a lie
Seeing is believing once was true
Now we can’t agree on even how to define
The common bond that used to pull us through
When I was a kid what we did never mattered at all
At least we never doubted what we knew
Now you know how I miss the arrogance of youth
When we’d never concede that you can’t find the truth
Now I’m beat up and broken and long in the tooth
But I still can’t believe that you can’t find the truth.