Thinking about a Dylan song

It'd been a while since I've subjected anyone around here to another one of my Dylan rambles, so here we go from Love Minus Zero/No Limit.

People carry roses,
Make promises by the hours,
My love she laughs like the flowers,
Valentines can't buy her.

There is a girl walking around town, going to work, going to school and trying the door handles. Doors with keyholes that when she peeks through them she sees gardens. With her is a book and inside is a ring of keys, and every day she tries a few doors, finding a magical swirling ship one day, a parade of clowns another. I don't really know what she sees.

Once we had tea together on a rainy day overlooking the missing Mississippi and joining us were Buddha and Christ, and we talked for a little while, but we had to leave after a little while when one ascended and the other just levitated, so it made conversation just a little bit difficult. We had other things we wanted to do anyway.

We walked among trees frequented by lovers, who hunt for a make out places just off the main walk. Carrying a unopened bottle I walked up to contorted couples asking for a corkscrew. Eventually we got one, but our efforts weren't much appreciated, even with a sweet looking girl looking on with a grin borrowed from Puck. Every guy preferred to whisper those sweet-whatevers they want to say between locking lips, hoping that their flowers could see them home.

She learned about recycling on the Valentine's day in the first grade; she preferred to drive down the highway, blasting Hendrix's "51st Anniversary," singing

And then you come saying
So you, you say you wanna get married
Oh baby trying to put me on a chain
Aint that some shame
You must be losing your, sweet little mind
I aint ready yet, baby, I aint ready
Im gonna change your mind...

Those weren't times for us to ramble and talk, afterall there was solos that needed to be played, and I needed to play them.