Let me hear the words
come from your mouth.
Not a mindless robot like
the industry believes,
That all men are created equal
Except for when they're not.
Wishing maybe someday
The cries of all the beats won't be in vain.
That the media stranglehold
Won't drive us insane.
Those whitewashed houses of
The glass asylums rose
Like dasies from the medow,
Harbored by love.
So that the minds of all the
Artists and musicians and junkie priests
Won't rot beneath the sewer streets,
City streets dance below my feet.
Ginsberg love song shouted out
By the tongues of all the dead astronauts.
Muses dance naked,
Losen the hands of the
Poets and dreamers who died
Without a single word out of millions.
Alone in the dark without a silent squeak.
Miserable, beautiful wretch!
For the next generation
To pick our brains and wonder why,
Travel back to a sweeter time where
The trees still stood and the wine flowed.
When we realized that not all that
Glitters is gold.