Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan, (nacido con el nombre de Robert Allen Zimmerman el 24 de mayo de 1941 en Duluth, Minnesota, Estados Unidos) es un cantautor estadounidense, autor, músico y poeta. Ha sido, durante cinco décadas, una de las mayores figuras en la música contemporánea, siendo considerado uno de los compositores y músicos más influyentes y prolíficos del siglo XX.[1] Muchos de los más célebres trabajos de Dylan datan de la década de los 1960s, cuando se convirtió en un cronista informal y un reacio testaferro de los conflictos estadounidenses. Algunas de sus canciones, como "Blowin' in the Wind" y "The Times They Are a-Changin'", se convirtieron en himnos antibélicos y de los movimientos civiles de aquella época.[2] Su más reciente disco de estudio, "Modern Times", lanzado el 29 de agosto de 2006, debutó en las listas estadounidenses en el #1, convirtiéndolo, a los 65 años de edad, en la persona de mayor edad en alcanzar esta posición.[3] Más tarde fue nombrado como El Álbum del Año por la revista Rolling Stone.[4] Las primeras letras de Dylan contenían temas sociales, filosóficos e influencia literaria, desafiando la música pop convencional existente y apelando generalmente a la contracultura de aquel tiempo. Mientras expandía y personalizaba estilos musicales, mostraba una firme devoción por muchas tradiciones de la música americana, de folk y country/blues a gospel, rock and roll y rockabilly, a música folk inglesa, escosesa e irlandesa, inclusive jazz y swing.[5][6]

Letra de Who Killed Davey Moore?
Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?

Not I, said the referee,
Don't point your finger at me.
I could've stopped it in the eighth
An' maybe kept him from his fate,
But the crowd would've booed, I'm sure,
At not gettin' their money's worth.
It's too bad he had to go,
But there was a pressure on me too, you know.
It wasn't me that made him fall.
No, you can't blame me at all.

Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?

Not us, said the angry crowd,
Whose screams filled the arena loud.
It's too bad he died that night
But we just like to see a fight.
We didn't mean for him t' meet his death,
We just meant to see some sweat,
There ain't nothing wrong in that.
It wasn't us that made him fall.
No, you can't blame us at all.

Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?

Not me, said his manager,
Puffing on a big cigar.
It's hard to say, it's hard to tell,
I always thought that he was well.
It's too bad for his wife an' kids he's dead,
But if he was sick, he should've said.
It wasn't me that made him fall.
No, you can't blame me at all.

Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?


Not me, said the gambling man,
With his ticket stub still in his hand.
It wasn't me that knocked him down,
My hands never touched him none.
I didn't commit no ugly sin,
Anyway, I put money on him to win.
It wasn't me that made him fall.
No, you can't blame me at all.

Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?

Not me, said the boxing writer,
Pounding print on his old typewriter,
Sayin', Boxing ain't to blame,
There's just as much danger in a football game.
Sayin', Fist fighting is here to stay,
It's just the old American way.
It wasn't me that made him fall.
No, you can't blame me at all.

Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?

Not me, said the man whose fists
Laid him low in a cloud of mist,
Who came here from Cuba's door
Where boxing ain't allowed no more.
I hit him, yes, it's true,
But that's what I am paid to do.
Don't say 'murder,' don't say 'kill.'
It was destiny, it was God's will.

Who killed Davey Moore,
Why an' what's the reason for?

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