Everybody has secrets left to conceal

You don’t have to look very far in your city for a basketball hoop in some car park or courtyard where a few lonely half-hoods are killing the night. You can walk down any street and walk hard, dropping the tails of your jeans in the wet dirt and cutting your face against the wind laced with ice. You can pull your jumper over your wrists and you can sing together as you lean forward that when you ain’t got nothing, you ain’t got nothing to lose. But that’s everywhere, these things are in your city everywhere, the Dylan is universal.