Bob Dylan (born Robert Allen Zimmerman on May 24, 1941 in Duluth, Minnesota, United States) is an American musician, poet and artist whose position in popular culture is unique.
Dylan started his musical odyssey in 1959 when he began playing in Dinkytown, Minneapolis while attending the University of Minnesota. Shortly after starting to play he changed his stage name to Bob Dylan, after being influenced by the poetry of Dylan Thomas before legally changing his name in 1962.
Four years of hard work!This month of May we celebrated four years on the air. We continue working on the dissemination of this wonderful instrument, thank you for participating in our story!
E |----------------| E |----------------| B |--*-------*-----| B |--*-------*-----| G |------*-------*-| or G |------*-------*-| D |----*-------*---| D |----*-------*---| A |----------------| A |*-------*-------| E |*-------*-------| E |----------------|
AC#mD Oh I'm sailing away, my own true love A I'm sailing away in the morning DA Is there something I can send you from across the sea C#mEDA From the place that I'll be landing
C#mEDA Repeat 8 Times
No there's nothing you can send me, my own true love There's nothing I wish to be owning Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled From across that lonesome ocean
Oh, but I just thought you might long want something fine Maybe silver or of golden Either from the mountains of Madrid Or from the coast of Barcelona
If I had the stars of the darkest night And the diamonds from the deepest ocean I'd forsake them all for your sweet kiss That's all I wish to be owning
Oh, I might be gone a long ol' time And it's only that I'm asking Is there something I can send you to remember me by To make your time more easy passing
How can, how can you ask me again Well it only brings me sorrow Oh, the same thing I would want today I would want again tomorrow
[instrumental part]
Oh, I got a letter on a lonesome day It was from his ship a-sailing Saying, I don't know when I'll be coming back again It depends on how I'm feeling
If you, my love, must think thataway I'm sure your mind is a-roaming I'm sure your thoughts are not with me But with the country where you're going
So take heed, take heed of the western wind Take heed of stormy weather And yes, there is something you can send back to me Spanish boots of Spanish leather [end on last G.]