The Times They Are A Changing

There has always been a prophetic nature to Bob Dylan songs:

Come gather round people wherever you roam
And admit that the waters around you have grown

Come writers and critics who prophesize with your pens
And keep your eyes open, the chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon, the wheel's still in spin

Come senators, congressmen, please head the call
Don't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt will be her that has stalled
The battle outside ragging will soon shake your windows
And rattle your hall
For the times, they are a changing