Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie

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LAST THOUGHTS ON WOODY GUTHRIE
 
 
“Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie”  is a poem written by American singer-songwriter Bob Dylan, and recited live during his April 12, 1963 performance at New York City’s Town Hall.  It was released in 1991 on The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991 after circulating on bootleg releases for years, even appearing on the ten-LP box set Ten of Swords in 1985.  (More from Wikipedia)
 
 

Bob Dylan once wrote a poem as a tribute to this folk music giant.  Titled “Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie”, Dylan recited it once at a concert – specifically, at the Town Hall in New York City on April 12, 1963 according to Wikipedia.  I have it on one of my Dylan bootleg albums, and it is also included in what is probably the biggest bootleg product of all time, the 10-LP box set Ten of Swords (1986).  The first legitimate release is on The Bootleg Series, Vols. 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased) 1961-1991 (1991). 

 

Introducing the poem at the end of his concert, Bob Dylan said that he had been asked to provide something for a book about Woody Guthrie:  “. . . what does Woody Guthrie mean to you in 25 words?  I couldn’t do it.  I wrote five pages.  And, I have it here, have it here by accident, actually.” 

 

Many people only think of Bob Dylan as a lyricist for his songs or maybe as a free-verse poet; but if there were ever any doubts about the man’s power as a true poet of the first order, Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie dispels them forever.  The lines have a free-verse feel to them, though mostly they rhyme, and there is the same conversational tone that Woody Guthrie used in his own work.  There is a breathless, exhilarating rush to the poem – it is nothing less than the search for the meaning of life amid the dross of the modern world.  While nothing can top hearing Dylan speak the words himself, the entire poem can be found here on bobdylan.comDylan’s official website – www.bobdylan.com/us/songs/last-thoughts-woody-guthrie.  It pains me to have to cut it short, but there are more than 200 lines in all, so here are some excerpts: 

 

     When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb

     When you think you’re too old, too young, too smart or too dumb

     When yer laggin’ behind an’ losin’ yer pace

     In a slow-motion crawl of life’s busy race

     No matter what yer doing if you start givin’ up

     If the wine don’t come to the top of yer cup

     If the wind’s got you sideways with one hand holdin’ on

     And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone

     And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it

     And the wood’s easy findin’ but yer lazy to fetch it . . . 

 

     And to yourself you sometimes say

     “I never knew it was gonna be this way

     Why didn’t they tell me the day I was born”

     And you start gettin’ chills and yer jumping from sweat

     And you’re lookin’ for somethin’ you ain’t quite found yet . . .

 

     You need something to open up a new door

     To show you something you seen before

     But overlooked a hundred times or more

     You need something to open your eyes

     You need something to make it known

     That it’s you and no one else that owns

     That spot that yer standing, that space that you’re sitting

     That the world ain’t got you beat

     That it ain’t got you licked

     It can’t get you crazy no matter how many

     Times you might get kicked

     You need something special all right

     You need something special to give you hope

     But hope’s just a word

     That maybe you said or maybe you heard

     On some windy corner ’round a wide-angled curve . . . 

 

     No you’ll not now or no other day

     Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper maché

     And inside it the people made of molasses

     That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses

     And it ain’t in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies

     Who’d turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny

     Who breathe and burp and bend and crack

     And before you can count from one to ten

     Do it all over again but this time behind yer back

     My friend . . . 

 

     And you yell to yourself and you throw down yer hat

     Sayin’, “Christ do I gotta be like that

     Ain’t there no one here that knows where I’m at

     Ain’t there no one here that knows how I feel

     Good God Almighty

     THAT STUFF AIN’T REAL”

 

     No but that ain’t yer game, it ain’t even yer race

     You can’t hear yer name, you can’t see yer face

     You gotta look some other place

     And where do you look for this hope that yer seekin’

     Where do you look for this lamp that’s a-burnin’

     Where do you look for this oil well gushin’

     Where do you look for this candle that’s glowin’

     Where do you look for this hope that you know is there

     And out there somewhere

     And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads

     Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows

     Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways

     You can touch and twist

     And turn two kinds of doorknobs

     You can either go to the church of your choice

     Or you can go to Brooklyn State Hospital

     You’ll find God in the church of your choice

     You’ll find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital

 

     And though it’s only my opinion

     I may be right or wrong

     You’ll find them both

     In the Grand Canyon

     At sundown

 

(March 2015)

 

Last edited: April 7, 2021