Answer: Search for the lyrics of Like a rolling stone by Bob Dylan then copy n paste it.
The dramatic movement in the song, at this level, is simple: some event has caused the woman to fall from grace, to be cast out from the upper social circles, and to have joined the ranks of those who have no material possessions. There is more going on here, though. The words are also about illusion and understanding, deception and truth. The song repeatedly describes ways in which the woman failed to see what was really going on around her. She never saw the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns, thought that people were joking when they said she was riding for a fall, failed to realize that the diplomat was using her, and so on. It’s worth noting how quickly and deftly Dylan introduces all of this. The first line encapsulates the class issue and tells us of the woman’s fall: “Once upon a time, you dressed so fine, threw the bums a dime, in your prime, didn’t you?” The second line then tells us how blind the woman was to what was going on around her: “People used to call, say ‘Beware, doll, you’re bound to fall,’ you thought they were all kidding you.” There is dramatic movement: the woman who has been unaware has experienced a fall, and from that experience, has an opportunity to change, to learn, to grow. And, brilliantly, each verse describes one more experience from which the subject might learn, takes the subject to the brink of enlightenment, asks the key questions whose answers would provide resolution, then… stops, begins again, and repeats the process.
Once upon a time
You dressed so fine,
You threw the bums a dime,
In your prime,
The short line length, the fairy-tale opening, the simple words and images, the straightforward aaaa repeating rhyme — all these elements work together to create the feeling of a children’s song, of a child’s world. “Little miss Muffet / Sat on a Tuffet / Eating her curds and whey” uses similar devices to similar effect, for example. In conjunction with the themes we have discussed, these devices suggest that the woman in our story started her adventure with a certain childish, simplistic approach to life, apparently thinking that everything around her was placed there solely for her own amusement. The first extended line, or verse, or whatever we call it — the first sentence, certainly — is not yet finished. The singer pauses, and then tosses off the following question.
Didn’t you?
A fifth line that doesn’t rhyme with any of the first four, yet is clearly part of this first sentence. He is using the very structure of the song to let us know, to let the woman know, that there is more going on, more to the song, and more to life, than this simple children’s world. The words are about illusion and reality, deception and truth. But the lines, verses and rhymes are also playing with these same ideas, first making us think that this is a simple children’s song, then showing us a larger world of which this childish beginning is no more than a piece. The music is at the same time ethereal and earthy, classical and improvisational, stately and sensuous, austere and warm, hallowed and irreverent. The instruments weave together in intricate patterns, yet at the same time move the song along at a measured pace, alternately relaxing and pushing at just the right places, supporting and emphasizing the effects of the words. The overall effect is of being in a church, yet a church that acknowledges all the rich complexities and mysteries of human existence, foregoing any easy moral judgments. And always, even when a discordant note is struck, even when things do not turn out to be simple or straightforward, there is this haunting, pervasive beauty. Dylan tells the woman in the song that the simple order to her life was an illusion, there was no simple, obvious order to the way in which this masterpiece was recorded.
