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Who is the better lyricist Bob Dylan or Leonard Cohen? First off Im a fan of both, and they are both brilliant lyricists but who in your opinion is better? LET A WOMAN BE A WOMAN AND A MAN BE A MAN | |
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If you're going for formal perfection then Leonard is better, but if you're looking for enjoyability then Bob is the man. “The man who never looks into a newspaper is better informed than he who reads them, inasmuch as he who knows nothing is nearer to truth than he whose mind is filled with falsehoods and errors.”
- Thomas Jefferson | |
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Tom Waits. | |
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wow, very hard. Bob Dylan is more diverse.  | |
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It's like asking me which great actor is better, I'll probably always side with the actor with the better body of work in which to act. | |
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Dylan hands down. | |
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it has to be Bob Dylan. nobody can write songs better than him imo. | |
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Bob Dylan Times They Are A Changing
Come gather round people wherever you roam And admit that the waters around you have grown And accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone If your time to you is worth saving Then you'd better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone For the times, they are a changing Come writers and critics who prophesize with your pens And keep your eyes open, the chance won't come again And don't speak too soon, the wheel's still in spin And there's no telling who that it's naming Oh the loser will be later to win For the times, they are a changing Come senators, congressmen, please head the call Don't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall For he that gets hurt will be her that has stalled The battle outside ragging will soon shake your windows And rattle your hall For the times, they are a changing Come mothers and fathers all over this land And don't criticize what you can't understand Your sons and your daughter are beyond your command Your old role is rapidly aging Please get out of the new one if you can't lend a hand For the times they are a changing The line, it is drawn, the curse, it is cast The slow one will later be fast And the present now will soon be the past The order is rapidly fading The first one now will later be last For the times, they are a changing | |
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Bob | |
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Bob Dylan Knockin On Heaven's Door
Mama, take this badge off of me I can't use it anymore. It's gettin' dark, too dark for me to see I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door. Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door Mama, put my guns in the ground I can't shoot them anymore. That long black cloud is comin' down I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door. Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door | |
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Bob Dylan All Along The WatchTower
There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief, "There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief. Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth, None of them along the line know what any of it is worth." "No reason to get excited," the thief, he kindly spoke, "There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke. But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate, So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late." All along the watchtower, princes kept the view While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too. Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl, Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl | |
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Hey mslegs I dont know why your showing me lyrics I already know if your point is here these are better than leonard cohen then I dont agree I think leonard is just as talented a lyricist as bob check these lyrics out from the future.
Give me back my broken night my mirrored room, my secret life it's lonely here, there's no one left to torture Give me absolute control over every living soul And lie beside me, baby, that's an order! Give me crack and anal sex Take the only tree that's left stuff it up the hole in your culture Give me back the Berlin wall give me Stalin and St Paul I've seen the future, brother: it is murder. Things are going to slide, slide in all directions Won't be nothing Nothing you can measure anymore The blizzard, the blizzard of the world has crossed the threshold and it has overturned the order of the soul When they said REPENT REPENT I wonder what they meant When they said REPENT REPENT I wonder what they meant When they said REPENT REPENT I wonder what they meant. You don't know me from the wind you never will, you never did I was the little jew who wrote the Bible I've seen the nations rise and fall I've heard their stories, heard them all but love's the only engine of survival Your servant here, he has been told to say it clear, to say it cold: It's over, it ain't going any further And now the wheels of heaven stop you feel the devil's RIDING crop Get ready for the future: it is murder. Things are going to slide ... There'll be the breaking of the ancient western code Your private life will suddenly explode There'll be phantoms There'll be fires on the road and a white man dancing You'll see a woman hanging upside down her features covered by her fallen gown and all the lousy little poets coming round tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson and the white man dancin'. Give me back the Berlin wall Give me Stalin and St Paul Give me Christ or give me Hiroshima Destroy another fetus now We don't like children anyhow I've seen the future, baby: it is murder. Things are going to slide ... When they said REPENT REPENT ... [Edited 3/30/08 7:16am] LET A WOMAN BE A WOMAN AND A MAN BE A MAN | |
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Dylan
Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again Oh, the ragman draws circles Up and down the block. I'd ask him what the matter was But I know that he don't talk. And the ladies treat me kindly And furnish me with tape, But deep inside my heart I know I can't escape. Oh, Mama, can this really be the end, To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again. Well, Shakespeare, he's in the alley With his pointed shoes and his bells, Speaking to some French girl, Who says she knows me well. And I would send a message To find out if she's talked, But the post office has been stolen And the mailbox is locked. Oh, Mama, can this really be the end, To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again. Mona tried to tell me To stay away from the train line. She said that all the railroad men Just drink up your blood like wine. An' I said, "Oh, I didn't know that, But then again, there's only one I've met An' he just smoked my eyelids An' punched my cigarette." Oh, Mama, can this really be the end, To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again. Grandpa died last week And now he's buried in the rocks, But everybody still talks about How badly they were shocked. But me, I expected it to happen, I knew he'd lost control When he built a fire on Main Street And shot it full of holes. Oh, Mama, can this really be the end, To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again. Now the senator came down here Showing ev'ryone his gun, Handing out free tickets To the wedding of his son. An' me, I nearly got busted An' wouldn't it be my luck To get caught without a ticket And be discovered beneath a truck. Oh, Mama, can this really be the end, To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again. Now the preacher looked so baffled When I asked him why he dressed With twenty pounds of headlines Stapled to his chest. But he cursed me when I proved it to him, Then I whispered, "Not even you can hide. You see, you're just like me, I hope you're satisfied." Oh, Mama, can this really be the end, To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again. Now the rainman gave me two cures, Then he said, "Jump right in." The one was Texas medicine, The other was just railroad gin. An' like a fool I mixed them An' it strangled up my mind, An' now people just get uglier An' I have no sense of time. Oh, Mama, can this really be the end, To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again. When Ruthie says come see her In her honky-tonk lagoon, Where I can watch her waltz for free 'Neath her Panamanian moon. An' I say, "Aw come on now, You must know about my debutante." An' she says, "Your debutante just knows what you need But I know what you want." Oh, Mama, can this really be the end, To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again. Now the bricks lay on Grand Street Where the neon madmen climb. They all fall there so perfectly, It all seems so well timed. An' here I sit so patiently Waiting to find out what price You have to pay to get out of Going through all these things twice. Oh, Mama, can this really be the end, To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again. | |
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cohen, in my opinion, i feel him to be more poetic, plus he has a better voice than robert zimmerman. | |
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baroque said: cohen, in my opinion, i feel him to be more poetic, plus he has a better voice than robert zimmerman.
To be honest, I don't like both voices.....I was never so much into Dylan either, but I noticed the high quality of his song-writing after listening to the soundtrack of 'I'm Not There'.....22 of his songs performed by different artists.... | |
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I like and respect both Leonard and Bob, but I'm a huge fan of Bob's, so for me there is no question. It's Bob all the way. He's the greatest lyricist of our time.
Bob writes and sings with more emotion than anyone IMO. It took me a long time to appreciate Bob, but once I was able to appreciate his greatness my love for him has grown to the point where he's one of my favorite musicians and my absolute favorite songwriter. | |
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