My first love your

Please click here if you are not redirected within a few seconds. What does this song mean to you? Song Discussions is protected by U. Lyrics 1961-2012 A beautiful, comprehensive volume of Dylan’s lyrics, from the beginning of his career through the present day-with the songwriter’s edits to dozens of songs, appearing here for the first time. COLUMBIA and “Walking Eye” Design are registered trademarks of Sony Music Entertainment. Relations in the one house are a strain at the best of times, but, to make matters worse, my grandmother was a real old countrywoman and quite unsuited to the life in town. Now, girls are supposed to be fastidious, but I was the one who suffered most from this. Nora, my sister, just sucked up to the old woman for the penny she got every Friday out of the old-age pension, a thing I could not do. I was playing with Bill Connell, the sergeant-major’s son, and saw my grandmother steering up the path with the jug of porter sticking out from beneath her shawl, I was mortified.

When Mother was at work and my grandmother made the dinner I wouldn’t touch it. Nora once tried to make me, but I hid under the table from her and took the bread-knife with me for protection. I lashed out at her with the bread-knife, and after that she left me alone. And all because of that old woman ! Then, to crown my misfortunes, I had to make my first confession and communion. It was an old woman called Ryan who prepared us for these. Montenotte, wore a black cloak and bonnet, and came every day to school at three o’clock when we should have been going home, and talked to us of hell.

She lit a candle, took out a new half-crown, and offered it to the first boy who would hold one finger, only one finger! Being always very ambitious I was tempted to volunteer, but I thought it might look greedy. Then she asked were we afraid of holding one finger-only one finger! Another day she said she knew a priest who woke one night to find a felllow he didn’t recognise leaning over the end of his bed. The priest was a bit frightened, naturally enough but he asked the fellow what he wanted, and the fellow said in a deep, husky voice that he wanted to go to confession. But the worst of all was when she showed us how to examine our conscience. Did we take the name of the Lord, our God, in vain? Did we honour our father and our mother? I asked her did this include grandmothers and she said it did. Did we love our neighbours as ourselves?

Did we covet our neighbour 5 goods? I thought of the way I felt about the penny that Nora got every Friday. I was scared to death of confession. The day the whole class went, I let on to have a toothache, hoping my absence wouldn’t be noticed, but at three o’clock, just as I was feeling safe, along comes a chap with a message from Mrs. Ryan that I was to go to confession myself on Saturday and be at the chapel for communion with the rest. To make it worse, Mother couldn’t come with me and sent Nora instead. Now, that girl had ways of tormenting me that Mother never knew of.

She held my hand as we went down the hill, smiling sadly and saying how sorry she was for me, as if she were bringing me to the hospital for an operation. Isn’t it a terrible pity you weren’t a good boy? Oh, Jackie, my heart bleeds for you! How will you ever think of all your sins? Don’t forget you have to tell him about the time you kicked Gran on the shin. I said, trying to drag myself free of her. I don’t want to go to confession at all. But sure, you’ll have to go to confession, Jackie!