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A world without Bob Dylan
Contributed by
zedwards
on
Wednesday, 6th January 2010 @ 08:35:49 AM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
The freaks and the geeks who populate the streets
Carrying the knowledge and spirit of the Beats
Their identities are pierced trough their nose
Drenched in the black that is their clothes
Attempting to fill emptiness with more holes
Tattoo their arms with designs to keep out the cold
For the world around them is a reflection
Of the darkness that creeps in their souls
They see the beauty and ugliness in life
For they go together like a husband and wife
Two opposites fighting forever
They are both hot and cold categorized as weather
Changing day to day, keeping the waters at bay
Just words hanging from your tongue left to say
But you can’t touch them, name them,
Put your finger on them and claim them
Some things in life aren’t mean to be understood
They just are
There are so many people that the drugs left behind
Standing in the shadows of a crowded food line
Left to wander the streets with shopping carts for homes
Family members stranded next to telephones
Dirty ragged clothes to warm their bones
Feet in shoes with holes wandering places to roam
Houses made out of cardboard and Styrofoam
Stunted by reality they lack where others have grown
They are the walking dead in a world still living
Holding out their hands while people walk by without giving
They have a haunted past willing to be forgiven
And yet there is something inside of them still driven
The will to live, survive, take one last look and dive
If their heart is beating then they’re alive
Count the fingers on their hand they’re still five
While the city waits for the man on the cross to finally arrive
Guilt is a heavy load to carry
A toll too high for your boat to ferry
It clings to you like lambs to Mary
You can’t shave it off of your face because it’s too hairy
Every day is Halloween and the costume you’re wearing is scary
You’d stomp down the road if your feet weren’t too weary
And if people ask you how the thread of life is hanging
You say “Just barely”
There’s a stain on your shirt you can’t clean
A deck of cards missing a queen
Too much fat on your meat to be lean
Too many places on a map you haven’t seen
Not enough body parts for you to lose your spleen
No matter how hard you study you can’t make the dean
You wear blue jeans, a yellow top and now you’re feeling green
All the while life’s two slices of bread that you’re caught between
How do you find yourself in a world gone electric?
Where inches and yards are lost in the metric
Traffic is not slow it’s hectic
Where love is no longer quiet but graphic
If you look in the mirror then the answer is clear
You might find yourself in the headlights like a trapped deer
For it is only the truth that is feeding you fear
Take another swig of beer because the righteous path is near
We all wear masks because sometimes
Because being ourselves is just not enough
So we work out our muscles to be tough
Hold onto lunch money from the bullies too rough
Keep our sounds warm inside earmuffs
Go to the store and buy new stuff
Break the law and run from the sheriff
And the farther we get from ourselves
We realize there’s just one person we can’t bluff
And who might this person be?
Is he or she somebody that we can see?
If we try to run will we be able to flee
Live with the knowledge of the birds and bees
Perhaps this is the only person alive that can set us free
Fill up the void with pools of empty
Unlock our mind’s weakness with a key
I guess it’s not up to you and me
But where do you find this thing you’re searching for?
Is it in the lyrics of a folk song?
Found in the beat of a hip hop sound
Howling in the riffs of a guitar string wound
In Shakespeare’s diary library bound
Beneath the lights of New York town
In the halls of Harvard, lying with the queen’s royal crown
Or a glimmering hope in the street lost and found
Is it under the carpet your feet scrape?
Out the window your curtains drape
Is it written, meant to be, or just fate
Is it something that your mind can create?
Or is it lost with the lint in your pocket
Swimming in space, gone like a rocket
Running through the woods with David Crocket
Hanging like a noose in a heart shaped locket
Is it in the broken promises of politician’s tale?
In the bottom of a belly of a humpback whale
Soaring on the edge of a riptide gale
Sounding in the notes of a Major scale
Written with an F on the tests you seem to fail
Crawling slowly on the back of a lost snail
Chewing on the bag of chips that have long gone stale
Or in your coffin pounded shut by a hammer and nail
Is it left in the magic bus of Alexander Supertramp?
Burning the oil of the midnight lamp
Raised to eleven on your ten volt amp
Sleeping in the tent of your 3rd world camp
Let out in the rain that makes your hair feel damp
Swimming in the ocean of your stomach’s cramp
Put in a message in a bottle with no postage stamp
Or delivered to the floor with a left hook from the champ
You ask world leaders, late night readers
The beatniks, the lefties, the righties,
The jokers, the fallen, the Johns and the Jacks
And all the people who fell underneath life’s cracks
You ask the one who comes before the fall
The girl in the red dress dressed for the ball
The independent thinkers who either think too much or not at all
You ask America wondering why she doesn’t return your call
You sleep alone at night with these thoughts
These demons the light never caught
This emptiness that fills the parking lot
This salvation that cannot be bought
This feeling that burns too hot
You know there is something out there you’re not
Putting together the pieces of what you’ve got
You still try to unravel life’s golden knot
They ask you to dam rivers with pebbles
Take down mountains with knives
Candy coat ugliness with good taste
Instead of staring it straight in the face
Smile at the world while it frowns on you
Take the red pill if the blue won’t do
Solve global problems with local donations
While money is the god of all of creation
You’re looking for hope, a word, or a clue
Something that is not found inside of you
That makes everything worth living, fighting, and dying for
When you have it in your grip you know there is nothing more
Something that rights the unnecessary wrong
Found on the train of a Woody Guthrie song
Passing towns where the tracks don’t run along
When you hear it loud you know you finally belong
You’re looking for answers in a feeling
In a place where children are killing
In the fields where machines are tilling
In the freezers where time is chilling
Or in the back pocket of a comic book villain
In a godless land where sinners are willing
Where the blood of the land is America’s pie filling
But you won’t find it in a world without Bob Dylan
Copyright ©
zedwards
... [
2010-01-06 08:35:49]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: A world without Bob Dylan
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Thursday, 7th January 2010 @ 12:37:13 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Interesting attempt to enlighten the unknowing
It was like going to the North country fare
and finding Lennon and Bachman
insted of J.C and R.Z
I did appreciate the toned down version of genius
in order to compliment said inspiration
for it's not pladiarism if it wisely watered down
some times honor is silence
-D.Truth |
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