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I don't call myself a poet, because I don't like the word.
Bob Dylan
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Bob Dylan
Age: 83
Born: 1941
Born: May 24
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Duluth
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Everyone of them words rang true and glowed like burning coal, pouring off every page like it was written in my soul from me to you.
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She speaks with a stutter and she and she walks with a hop. I don't know why I love her, but I just can't stop.
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Well, the moral of the story, The moral of this song, Is simply that one should never be Where one does not belong. So when you see your neighbor carryin' somethin', Help him with his load, And don't go mistaking Paradise For that home across the road.
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