Leave your name tags in the mud and find what really lives in you
And when you have lost all sense of compassion keep following through
You will see the pale faced stranger with bungee cords on his legs
He tells you that the ever rising tide will keep you from the dregs
Don’t wish for all his glitter and family pets or you will evaporate
Into the clear glass screen that boxes in the huddled masses- they decimate.
Your wishfull thinkers, lemmings and cooper tires bend to the force of the wind.
They are the gasoline to the fire that burns for your creativity to rescind.
Fuck it! That’s what I say as I drink from the tear-shaped pillowcase
And think that fighting for a dodo bird will, to me, never be a disgrace.
So take your drunken preacher another rock to throw in his big cloudy bag.
Make him feel like he owns your boxers and that you will always fly his flag.
5 comments:
Interestingly enough, if it is at all, i wrote this to Bob Dylan's Its All Over Now, Baby Blue.
and we all said, amen.
church dismissed.
do you mean you wrote it to the tune of that song, or you wrote it while your were listening to that song?
rm
In the beginning.........
naw, i wrote the beginning to the tune, but it, obviously, strayed from there. The form is really what was inspired by Dylan.
gotcha. i dig
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