11 Outlined Epitaphs   By Bob Dylan      I end up then   in the early evenin'   blindly punchin' at the blind   breathin' heavy   stutterin'   an' blowin' up   where t' go?   what is it that's exactly wrong?   who t' picket?   who t' fight?   behind what windows   will I at least   hear someone from the supper table   get up t' ask   "did I hear someone outside just now?"   yesterday   an hour ago   it came t' me   in a second's flash   an' was all so clear   it still is now   yes it is   it's maybe hidin'   it must be hidin'   the shot has shook   me up . . . for I've never   heard that sound before   bringing wild thoughts at first   ragged wild   numb wild   now though they've leveled out   an' been wrung out   leavin' nothin' but the strangeness   the roots within a washed-out cloth   drippin' from the clothesline pole   strange thoughts   doubtin' thoughts   useless an' unnecessary   the blast it's true   startled me back but for a spell   content with   all pictures, posters an' the like   that're painted for me   ah but I turned   an' the nex' time I looked   the gloves of garbage   had clobbered the canvas   leavin' truckloads of trash   clutterin' the colors   with a blindin' sting   forcin' me t' once again   slam the shutters of my eyes   but also me to wonderin'   when they'll open   much much stronger   than anyone whose own eyes're   aimed over here at mine   "when will he open up his eyes?"   "who him? doncha know? he's a crazy man   he never opens up his eyes"   "but he'll surely miss the world go by"   "nah! he lives in his own world"   "my my then he really must be a crazy man"   "yeah he's a crazy man"      an' so on spangled streets   an' country roads   I hear sleigh bells   jingle jangle   virgin girls   far into the field   sing an' laugh   with flickerin' voices   softly fadin'   I stop an' smile   an' rest awhile   watchin' the candles   of sundown dim   unnoticed   unnoticed for my eyes're closed