From the heartbeat of the American soul
Spread out and led astray by cruel children
Exhausted from the burden of old gestures and ancestors,
Fleeing the iron mines up north toward the seventeen castles,
The Jewish electrician father, the minors, the pharisees and girls named
Echo and Story, for real, hanging on the arms of Superstar to be,
Playing on Long Island, decades away from Minnesota, at the back of a bar
Like a bum, easy friendships in the Village,
Home always just around the corner. A single highway, fifty-one,
And all the way to Jesus, even that,
Young old men with their fists raised for God, born again,
Nights of coke and booze, Sixties shamans’ dust,
The White Death that almost took you at twenty-seven.
And back to Nashville, Memphis, Chicago,
Never Ending Tour,
Old six-string heart,
Your dead on the road, Bob.

(Traduction Laurent Sauerwein - @larrysa)