The Bard of Swansea

The bard of Swansea,
Steeped in old lore,
Drank himself to death
When he was two score

He’d break the Welsh bread
Past the angels in his head
And write himself a book
Of lyrics and verse instead.

The man they called Dylan
But not Robert Zimmerman,
The man they called Thomas
Brought tea for the sea.

The mad bard of Swansea
Went on New York tour,
He drank too much whiskey
And then drank some more.

The day he was born
They threw out the verse,
The day he was young
He made up a universe

The man they called Dylan
But not Robert Zimmerman,
The man they called Thomas
Brought me to Swansea.

Before he grew old
And his songs of words waned,
He laid down and died –
The rules had all changed.

One sip in a Swansea hall,
One step down this wave-swept path
“Bewilder ‘em” is all
that’s left on his epitaph.