Series of Dreams

I get asked from time to time which is my favorite Dylan song, and I laugh. Not possible to list one. I do, however, have lists of favorites. Favorite acoustic, favorite lyrics, favorites that get most played over the years, favorite live versions, favorites for their significance.... Series of Dreams would make a few lists. It has certainly received plenty of playtime in my life. What impresses me in part is how the music conveys the hauntedness of the lyrics. Both -- music and lyrics -- emerge and merge in surrealistic streams from a nebulous center somewhere in the deep places of Dylan's soul, and connect with my own deep places.

The poetic phrasings are woven throughout with an originality that is completely Dylan. Who else would write a song like this? "I was thinking of a series of dreams..." From this matter of fact opening statement everything flows out. It's a mature Dylan making life observations from a place further down the road.

I, too, relate to this imagery because there is an unreal quality to dreams, and in this instance, to memory and ultimately life. There are times when one is older that our memories and experiences are something akin to a series of dreams made of tissue being disintegrated by time. And like the images in the song we try to grasp their meanings which, like dreams, are uniquely our own and not always understood, if there are meanings at all.

Series of Dreams

I was thinking of a series of dreams

Where nothing comes up to the top

Everything stays down where it's rooted

And comes to a permanent stop

Wasn't thinking of anything specific

Like in a dream, where someone wakes up and screams

Nothing too very scientific

Just thinking of a series of dreams.

Thinking of a series of dreams

Where the time and the tempo drag

And there's no exit in any direction

'Cept the one that you can't see with your eyes

Wasn't making any great connection

Wasn't falling for any intricate schemes

Nothing that would pass inspection

Just thinking of a series of dreams

Dreams where the umbrella is open

And into the path you are hurled

And the cards are no good that you're holding

Unless they're from another world

In one, the surface was frozen

In another, I witnessed a crime

In one, I was running and in another

All I seemed to be doing was climb

Wasn't looking for any special assistance

Nor going to any great extremes

I'd already gone the distance

Just thinking of a series of dreams

Dreams where the umbrella is open

And into the path you are hurled

And the cards are no good that you're holding

Unless they're from other world

I'd already gone the distance

Just thinking of a series of dreams

Just thinking of a series of dreams

Just thinking of a series of dreams

Copyright SPECIAL RIDER MUSIC