Escrita por Bob Dylan, foi gravada em 14 de novembro de 1973 e lançada em 17 de janeiro de 1974 no disco Planet Waves. Foi gravada logo no segundo take. Robbie Robertson tocou o violão, dando à canção um sabor de blues. Dirge significa um lamento aos mortos, uma canção de luto.
A letra:
I
hate myself for loving you and the weakness that it showed
You
were just a painted face on a trip down to suicide road
The stage
was set, the lights went out all around the old hotel
I hate
myself for loving you and I'm glad the curtain fell.
I hate
that foolish game we played and the need that was expressed
And
the mercy that you showed to me, whoever would have guessed
I went
out on Lower Broadway and I felt that place within
That hollow
place where martyrs weep and angels play with sin.
Heard your
songs of freedom and man forever stripped
Acting out his folly
while his back is being whipped
Like a slave in orbit he's beaten
'til he's tame
All for a moment's glory and it's a dirty, rotten
shame.
There are those who worship loneliness, I'm not one of
them
In this age of fiberglass I'm searching for a gem
The
crystal ball upon the wall hasn't shown me nothing yet
I've paid
the price of solitude but at least I'm out of debt.
I can't
recall a useful thing you ever did for me
Except pat me on the
back one time when I was on my knees
We stared into each other's
eyes 'till one of us would break
No use to apologize, what
difference would it make ?
So sing your praise of progress and
of the Doom Machine
The naked truth is still taboo whenever it can
be seen
Lady Luck who shines on me, will tell you where I'm at
I
hate myself for loving you but I should get over that.
A versão de Bob
Dylan:
A versão de Ara Duzian:
A versão de Erik Truffaz Quartet:
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