In Candy's room, there are pictures of her heroes on the wall But to get to Candy's room, you gotta walk the darkness of Candy's hall Strangers from the city call my baby's number and they bring her toys When I come knocking, she smiles pretty, she knows I wanna be Candy's boy
There's a sadness hidden in that pretty face A sadness all her own, from which no man can keep Candy safe We kiss, my heart's rushes to my brain And the blood rushes in my veins, the fire rushes towards the sky And then we go driving, driving deep into the night I go driving deep into the light, in Candy's eyes
She says, "baby if you wanna be wild, you got a lot to learn Close your eyes, let them melt, let them fire, let them burn" 'Cause in the darkness, there'll be hidden worlds that shine When I hold Candy close she makes these hidden worlds mine
She has fancy clothes and diamond rings She has men who give her anything she wants, but they don't see That what she wants is me Oh and I want her so, I'll never let her go, no no no She knows that I'd give all that I got to give All that I want, all that I live to make Candy mine Tonight
Darkness on the Edge of Town: Paramount Theatre, Asbury Park - Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band's intimate full album performance of ‘Darkness on the Edge of Town’ was recorded at Asbury Park’s Paramount Theatre in 2009. This program, filmed without an audience, successfully recreates the stark atmosphere of the original release.
Bob Dylan is the father of my country. Highway 61 Revisited and Bringing It All Back Home were not only great records, but they were the first time I can remember being exposed to a truthful vision of the place I lived. The darkness and light were all there, the veil of illusion and deception ripped aside. He put his boot on the stultifying politeness and daily routine that covered corruption and decay. The world he described was all on view, in my little town, and spread out over the television that beamed into our isolated homes, but it went uncommented on and silently tolerated. He inspired me and gave me hope. He asked the questions everyone else was too frightened to ask, especially to a fifteen-year-old: “How does it feel… to be on your own?” A seismic gap had opened up between generations and you suddenly felt orphaned, abandoned amid the flow of history, your compass spinning, internally homeless. Bob pointed true north and served as a beacon to assist you in making your way through the new wilderness America had become. He planted a flag, wrote the songs, sang the words that were essential to the times, to the emotional and spiritual survival of so many young Americans at that moment.
I had the opportunity to sing “The Times They Are A-Changin’ ” for Bob when he received the Kennedy Center Honors. We were alone together for a brief moment walking down a back stairwell when he thanked me for being there and said, “If there’s anything I can ever do for you…” I thought, “Are you kidding me?” and answered, “It’s already been done.”