I ain’t usin’ cigarettes and
psychadelics as my cures
I don’t run and hide and break hearts along the way
That denim meets your speak-for-the-every-man vibe, but baby, you
Can’t hide the opinionated pessimist behind those shades
My love, that pen and paper are fastened to your side
But I don’t see pictures of your past in that there wallet
I ain’t brushin’ off the dust from the train and the smell of stale weed
Do I seem lost in trees and blonde-haired angels or fresh paint?
Does selfish, unbridled, bravery seep from my very pores?
With hair a mess and tight jeans, but a beauty looped ‘round my arm?
I don’t run and hide and break hearts along the way
That denim meets your speak-for-the-every-man vibe, but baby, you
Can’t hide the opinionated pessimist behind those shades
My love, that pen and paper are fastened to your side
But I don’t see pictures of your past in that there wallet
I ain’t brushin’ off the dust from the train and the smell of stale weed
Do I seem lost in trees and blonde-haired angels or fresh paint?
Does selfish, unbridled, bravery seep from my very pores?
With hair a mess and tight jeans, but a beauty looped ‘round my arm?
That ain’t
my life or aspiration and these words ain’t jealousy
I just don’t understand the dramatic reincarnations of you, man
The smoke adds mystery and aura but it’s so close to overdone
Your machine kills fascists, but they aren’t the only monsters, are they, dear?
I just don’t understand the dramatic reincarnations of you, man
The smoke adds mystery and aura but it’s so close to overdone
Your machine kills fascists, but they aren’t the only monsters, are they, dear?
07.25.08 - As-yet-untitled poem I wrote inspired by Bob Dylan.
No comments:
Post a Comment