Once upon a time you dressed so fine
Threw the bums a dime in your prime
Didn't you?
People call, say, "Beware doll, you're bound to fall"
You thought they were all kiddin' you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin' out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't seem so proud
About having to be scrounging around for your next meal
How does it feel?
How does it feel?
To be without a home (How does it feel?)
With no direction home (How does it feel?)
Like a complete unknown (How does it feel?)
Like a rolling stone
You've gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
Nobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street
And now you're gonna have to get used to it
You've said you never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any Alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And say, "Do you want to make a deal?"
How does it feel?
How does it feel?
To be without a home (How does it feel?)
With no direction home (How does it feel?)
Like a complete unknown (How does it feel?)
Like a rolling stone
Never turned around to see the frowns
On the jugglers and the clowns when they all came down did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain't no good
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a siamese cat
Ain't it hard when you discover that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything, he could steal?
How does it feel?
How does it feel?
To be without a home (How does it feel?)
With no direction home (How does it feel?)
Like a complete unknown (How does it feel?)
Like a rolling stone
Princess on the steeple and all pretty people
They're all drinkin' and thinkin', they got it made
Exchanging all precious gifts
But you'd better take your diamond ring down and pawn it, babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse
When you ain't got nothin', you got nothin' to lose
You're invisible, you got no secrets to conceal
How does it feel?
Oh, how does it feel?
To be without a home (How does it feel?)
Like a complete unknown (How does it feel?)
Without your diplome (How does it feel?)
Like a rolling stone (How does it feel?)
About This Song
"Like a Rolling Stone" is Dylan's scathing six-minute masterpiece about the brutal fall from privilege to destitution, told through the lens of a once-wealthy socialite now reduced to complete anonymity and desperation. The song functions as both a personal attack on someone who lived insulated from real struggle and a broader meditation on how quickly social status can crumble, leaving individuals stripped of identity and forced to confront harsh reality. Dylan's lyrics trace the protagonist's journey from throwing coins to "bums" while dressed in finery to literally scrounging for meals, using the metaphor of a "rolling stone" to capture the rootless, directionless existence of someone with no fixed place in the world. The repetitive, almost taunting question "How does it feel?" becomes increasingly vicious as Dylan forces both the subject and listeners to confront the psychological terror of losing everything that once defined them. Musically, the song marked Dylan's full embrace of electric rock, featuring Al Kooper's distinctive organ sound and a driving rhythm that perfectly matched the song's relentless emotional assault. The production was revolutionary for its time, with its length and intensity challenging radio conventions while the electric instrumentation alienated folk purists who felt Dylan had betrayed his acoustic roots. The song resonated because it captured the anxiety of a rapidly changing 1960s America, where traditional social structures were collapsing and individuals could no longer rely on established hierarchies for security or identity. Its enduring power lies in how it transforms a specific story of downfall into a universal meditation on vulnerability, isolation, and the fragility of human dignity.
Comments (0)