i sat by my bed in a foreign land
was a republic of one but kingdom of none
listening a song about a wicked medicine man
who spoke about men rummage through
the desolate crowd
broken and mad
and saw them breathing dust
and loneliness and vast vistas of
desperation in sparse stories and
praying in pain
waiting for the hard rain to fall down
rain never came down
and we all were condemned to live
the collective failure of a whole generation
rummaging through desolate crowds
speaking to ourselves with voices ever so faint
shackled within our republic of one
but kingdom of none
No comments:
Post a Comment