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Too Late 1 Bob Dylan © 1983 Special Rider Music ("early version" of Foot Of Pride)

23 Apr 1983 SPRINGTIME IN NEW YORK:     THE BOOTLEG SERIES VOL. 16 / 1980-1985 #1 DYLAN ...REVISITED [Uncut issue June 2021]

Infidels session 12, Power Station NYC - 23.apr.1983, acoustic version The version from Uncut is edited after 4th verse Whether there was a murder, I don't know, I can't say I was visiting a friend in jail There were only two women at the scene at the time Neither one of those saw a thing, both of 'em were wearin' a veil. They said it was a natural situation That he reached too high and tumbled back to the ground You know what they say about bein' nice to people on the way up Sooner or later you might meet 'em comin' down. Well it's too late to bring him back Too late, too late, too late, too late, too late to bring him back. He got a brother named Paul, hangin' out at the Café Royal Where all the company is mixed Pretty to look at, he wants someone to throw the book at But you know he drinks and drinks can be fixed. Sing me one more song about your summer romance Or maybe that one about your one night stand with Errol Flynn In these times of compassion when conformity's in fashion Say one more stupid thing to me before the final nail's driven in. You know it's too late to bring him back Too late, too late, too late to bring him back. Doctor Silver Spoon from the ecstasy ballroom He's a retired businessman who feeds off everyone in touch He gives money to the church and foundations for research He's not someone you can play around with too much. Miss Rosetta Blake who's been both sides of the lake (*) She's rough to look at but she's straight She'll feed you coconut bread and spiced buns in bed If you won't have to worry about sleepin' with your head face down in the plate. Well it's too late to bring him back Too late, too late, too late, too too late to bring him back. Gonna arrange to see a man tonight He'll tell you some secret things that you think might open some doors How to enter in the gates of paradise, no not really More like goin' crazy from carryin' a burden never meant to be yours. On the stage they'll be doin' the bumps and the grinds A whore will pass the hat, collect a hundred grand, say, well boys thanks They like to take all this money from sin, build big castles to study in And sing Amazing Grace all the way to the Swiss banks. Well it's too late to bring him back [ Too late, too late, too late, too too late to bring him back. ] They got some serious people out there man They can ring your bell and show you how to hold your tongue They don't come to party man They kill babies in the crib and they say only the good die young They don't believe in mercy And judgment on 'em is somethin' that you'll never see They put your face on a postage stamp, turn your home into an armed camp Anyway they want you, that's the way you'll be. Yes I loved him too I can still see him in my mind climbin' up that hill Or was it a wall I don't recall It don't matter at all, and it never will. Ain't nothin' left here partner Just the dust of fools that have left their mark in spades From now on this will be where you're from, let the dead bury the dead, your time will come Feel that hot iron glowin' as you raise the shade. Oh it's too late to bring him back Too late, too late, too late, too too late to bring him back. (*)see "full band" version below and "text cuts" of lyrics in Terry Gans' book "Surviving in a Ruthless World", pp.135-153 or alternate transcription from Eyolf Østrem's dylanchord.com.

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Too Late 2

23 Apr 1983 SPRINGTIME IN NEW YORK:     THE BOOTLEG SERIES VOL. 16 / 1980-1985 #2

Infidels session 12, Power Station NYC - 23.apr.1983, "band version" Well whether there was a murder, I don't know, I wasn't there I was busy visiting a friend in jail There were just two women on the scene at the time Neither one saw a thing, both of 'em were wearin' veils. They said it was a natural situation He reached too high and tumbled back to the ground You know what they say about bein' nice to people on your way up You might meet 'em again on your way back down. But it's too late to bring him back Too late, too late, too late, too late, too late to bring him back. He had a brother named Paul, hangin' out at the Café Royal Where Miss Dolly plays and the reviews have been mixed Well he's pretty to look at, lookin' for someone to throw the book at But you know he drinks and drinks can be fixed. Sing me one more song about your summer romance I know you don't know Motherless Children, sing me the one about you an' Errol Flynn In these times of compassion when conformity's a fashion Say one more stupid thing to me before the final nail's driven in. You know it's too late to bring him back Too late, too late, too late, too too late to bring him back. Doctor Silver Spoon from the Empress ballroom He's a retired businessman who feeds off everyone in touch Gives money to the church and foundations for research He's not someone you can play around with too much. But then there's Rosetta Blake who's been both sides of the lake She's rough to look at but she's righteously straight She'll feed you coconut bread and spiced buns in bed You won't have to worry about sleepin' face down with your head in the plate. Well it's too late to bring him back Too late, too late, too late, too late to bring him back. You'll arrange to see your man tonight Who tells you some secret things you think might open some doors How to enter the gates of paradise, no not really More like to go crazy from carryin' a burden never meant to be yours. From the stage they'll be doin' the bumps and the grinds A whore will pass the hat, collect a hundred grand an' say thanks They like to take all this money from sin, build big universities to study in And sing Amazing Grace all the way to the Swiss banks. But it's too late to bring him back Too late, too late, too late, too late, too late to bring him back. They got some serious people out there man They can ring your bell and show you how to hold your tongue They don't come to party man They kill babies in the crib, say only the good die young They don't believe in mercy And judgment on them is somethin' you'll never see They can put your face on a postage stamp, turn your home into an armed camp Anyway they want you, that's the way you'll be. But it's too late to bring him back Too late, too late, too late, too late, too late to bring him back. Yes I loved him too I still see him in my mind climbin' up that hill Or was it a wall I don't recall It don't matter at all, honey, and it never will. Ain't nothin' left here partner Just the dust of fools that have left their mark in spades From now on this will be where you're from, let the dead bury the dead, your time will come Feel that hot iron glowin' now as you raise the shade. But it's too late to bring him back Too late, too late, too late, too late, too late to bring him back.