At midnight East Coast time I told the music group about Spaw and his sterling qualities and asked for some Dylan songs.

We sang You Ain't Goin' Nowhere, Lay Down Your Weary Tune and our local bluesman came up with a non sequitur, if I ever heard one. He sang:

She takes just like a woman, yes, she does
She makes love just like a woman, yes, she does
And she aches just like a woman
But she breaks just like a little girl.

It was raining from the first
And I was dying there of thirst
So I came in here
And your long-time curse hurts
But what's worse
Is this pain in here
I can't stay in here
Ain't it clear that--

I just can't fit
Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit
When we meet again
Introduced as friends
Please don't let on that you knew me when
I was hungry and it was your world.
Ah, you fake just like a woman, yes, you do
You make love just like a woman, yes, you do
Then you ache just like a woman
But you break just like a little girl.

But at least, Spaw, it was all sung in your honor.