Obviously a Dylan fan from way back, "Come in", she purred, "I'll give ya shelter from the storm."
Or maybe she was muttering, "Something is happening here, and you don't know what it is..."
Well, something was happening all right, as my eyes quivered and shimmered from overbright focus. Was this the hour that my ship comes in...
or a hazy memory from a distant, long abandonned past on Desolation Row?
Only aged and worn, blonde on blonde wooden planks.
House of blues ahead, or is it the House of the Rising Sun. If we pause to make enquiries, might we find ourselves knock-knock-knocking on Heaven's door?
We'll just have to stop (in the name of love) here for the moment, and wait for the next leg of the tour-- though I don't know when I'll be comin' back again, it depends on how I'm a-feelin'. But don't worry, we'll meet again some day, on the avenue.