"JUST LIKE A WOMAN"

Words & Music by Robert Zimmerman

Nobody feels any pain
Tonight as I stand inside the rain
Everybody knows
That Baby's got new clothes
But lately I see her ribbons and her bows
Have fallen from her curls

She takes just like a woman, yes, she does
She makes love just like a woman, yes, she does
And she aches just like a woman
But she breaks just like a little girl

Queen Mary, she's my friend
Yes, I believe I'll go see her again
Nobody has to guess
That Baby can't be blessed
Till she sees finally that she's like all the rest
With her fog, her amphetamine and her pearls

She takes just like a woman, yes, she does
She makes love just like a woman, yes, she does
And she aches just like a woman
But she breaks just like a little girl

It was raining from the first
And I was dying there of thirst
So I came in here
And your long-time curse hurts
But what's worse
Is this pain in here
I can't stay in here
Ain't it clear that--

I just can't fit
Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit
When we meet again
Introduced as friends
Please don't let on that you knew me when
I was hungry and it was your world

Ah, you fake just like a woman, yes, you do
You make love just like a woman, yes, you do
Then you ache just like a woman
But you break just like a little girl


(Cue the saddest harmonica solo ever committed to record, played with the conviction of a man whose life has been touched by someone truly remarkable, someone exceptional, someone whom he can't seem to reach, no matter how hard he tries... the solo suggests the creaky ache of disappointment and dejection, but in the squealy notes that emanate from such a primal source, there is hope, the hope that one day a song like this need not be sung as many times as it has been, that one day the person who bleats feverishly on the harp will achieve some sort of peace, a break, a rest from the pace of the modern world and its trappings, its shortcomings, its desolate flaws.)