The line has been stuck in my head for 25 years, “Patriotism is the last refuge to which a scoundrel clings”, from Bob Dylan’s pen through his nasal vocal delivery and into my memory banks it’s been lodged there popping in and out of my thoughts like the poor victim in a Whac-a-Mole game. The context of the lyric comes a couple of years or so into the first Reagan administration years after Vietnam, Watergate, the Carter economy and Disco. Dylan was coming out of his Gospel phase, still two years from releasing one of the first career spanning boxsets in Biograph, and I was a rocker looking to hear the next Led Zeppelin replacement when I borrowed “Infidels” from our local library. The thing about music that most pulls me in and embedds itself to the point that it stays for years in my thought life is the lyric delivered by a voice is not pitch perfect, something Randy Jackson is always so concerned about, but just delivered in a way that makes the message believable to me. Whether the song is about cars, love, politics, society, etc the key is that the one giving up control of their ear gate for next three and half minutes believes that the singer has experienced what is being sung about. Bob Dylan is, of course, a master of this and Sweetheart like You is a fine example. Whether it comes from an actual experience of Mr. Dylan or out of his imagination the voice he delivers these words in takes you to the rundown establishment that has been graced by the sweetheart’s presence. What his intentions are, well again another quality of Rock over other forms of lyricism, is really up to the listeners’ imagination giving us the opportunity to relate the scene to our own lives, choices and experiences.
Well, the pressure’s down, the boss ain’t here,
He gone North, he ain’t around,
They say that vanity got the best of him
But he sure left here after sundown.
By the way, that’s a cute hat,
And that smile’s so hard to resist
But what’s a sweetheart like you doin’ in a dump like this?
You know, I once knew a woman who looked like you,
She wanted a whole man, not just a half,
She used to call me sweet daddy when I was only a child,
You kind of remind me of her when you laugh.
In order to deal in this game, got to make the queen disappear,
It’s done with a flick of the wrist.
What’s a sweetheart like you doin’ in a dump like this?
You know, a woman like you should be at home,
That’s where you belong,
Watching out for someone who loves you true
Who would never do you wrong.
Just how much abuse will you be able to take?
Well, there’s no way to tell by that first kiss.
What’s a sweetheart like you doin’ in a dump like this?
You know you can make a name for yourself,
You can hear them tires squeal,
You can be known as the most beautiful woman
Who ever crawled across cut glass to make a deal.
You know, news of you has come down the line
Even before ya came in the door.
They say in your father’s house, there’s many mansions
Each one of them got a fireproof floor.
Snap out of it, baby, people are jealous of you,
They smile to your face, but behind your back they hiss.
What’s a sweetheart like you doin’ in a dump like this?
Got to be an important person to be in here, honey,
Got to have done some evil deed,
Got to have your own harem when you come in the door,
Got to play your harp until your lips bleed.
They say that patriotism is the last refuge
To which a scoundrel clings.
Steal a little and they throw you in jail,
Steal a lot and they make you king.
There’s only one step down from here, baby,
It’s called the land of permanent bliss.
What’s a sweetheart like you doin’ in a dump like this?
Copyright © 1983 Special Rider Music
