Now, little boy lost
He takes himself so seriously
He brags of his misery
He likes to live dangerously
And when bringing her name up
He speaks of a farewell kiss to me
He's sure got a lotta gall
To be so useless and all
Muttering small talk at the wall
While I'm in the hall.
How can I explain?
Oh, it's so hard to get on
And these visions of Johanna,
They kept me up past the dawn.

Bob Dylan, from Visions of Johanna, 1966