By: PeaceLoveSprayPaint | Sep 29, 2012 Featured
It’s another day. Stopping to get gas and cigarettes on the way home, and all I want to do is sleep. It’s been a few days of stress and no sleep.
And on the way home… Home… another wayward idea, another way off ideal… home….
“Please don’t poison Me… Please don’t Poison Me…. Please Don’t Poison Me…”
And going back to bed, seemed wrong…
Here I am, yet afraid… I’m Tired of being afraid… Tired of being afraid,…
Almost tired of being alive, but can’t stop. Each breath is an insult to society. Look at me. Stoned. Seen too many miles, too many nightmares, too much death.
But I’ve maybe got a grip on that
Seems a better trip here
A better voyage,
So all is good, a good group of people, a feint smile on my face, and despite the pull to sadness and despair, I see that balloon, and spear to chuck at it.
Ready aim. You are on Missouri. Fire.
We are group of people. On fire. On deck, on revolution. We are love.
And you will love us. We hope. We are not civil disobedience. We are loveobeidience. To 1613. the lsd and the mushrooms. The trips and tripping to the stream,
the love of being alive.
Even though we have death between our toes, we keep walking.
The now dead fish, Little Spotted Dude, Sex, is Public Places, our pit-bull Tsunami, and these are they days.
We have nothing but love, but party. We know love, and revolution, but its not the idea.
Walking up and down Wilson Avenue, Stopping on High ST<
Keeping the unrest alive and keeping the family types opposite left,
Playing quietly with the cops, Playing quietly with each other,
Another abyss, another life.
Keeping the Clouds of Dissonance of ideas together
Keeping those Ideas of Dissonance Apart,
Like the Counter Melodies of cross tuned Guitars
and Arythmic drums,
Keeping jobs and classes we don't care about,
Keeping Lives and Loves We do Care about?
Through LSD Cocaine Tequila and Marijuana,
Through Hugs and Kisses,
Rain Drenched Jams
“There's a hole in my Bucket,
A Hole in My bucket,
There's a Hole in My Bucket,
And I Can't Get NOOOOO
I SAID I CAN'T GET NOOOOO
There's a hole in my BUCKET.....ttttt
And I CAN'T GET NO BEER!!!”
And we got beer, and went to the creek,
And it was still raining,
And we were still tripping,
And we had no idea the night,
Less of an idea the morning,
No idea the life we had,
Just that we had SMILES,
That we had LIFE
That the world might have been right
That the life was good
We the 6 of us
on the right path
At the house on Wilson and High
And our drawers and our messssssss
The ignored Chore wheel,
The Mosquito Infested Couch
and the at hand bong,
The dying tv and the deadly balcony
and the free beers
and the free drugs
and the huge parties
and the life
And then it ended. The lease is up, the jig is gone, there is no repentence now.
There is just a JOB?
There is another place, and there is another party,
Here smoke this what is it
Just smoke this, the mushrooms, drink this beer, welcome home,
This is for you this is love
Welcome to the days
This is the daisy
This is your home
These are your roommates
And this is your mansion
On our porch we will throw parties,
And in this fridge is everything
Eat this Jello,
There are 550,
We will litter the town, lets GO!!!!!
its a new lake of the unknown,
the sugarcubes are mine....
this rice is scary
this is nothing
this is the square is all coming down
its all love here,
its all walking
but its one party
and we have something new?
We have something old
No we know there is something coming
We are sitting in the clean room,
Dixie cups of old,
Those cells burned,
but we still know,
Here on Wilson Street,
Here on High Street,
that there is something
yet we can't see our feet,
Just empty cases of clean bottles, waiting for our special brew
We have the delivery man on call,
And from here we walk,
We can't see anything, but our future callings,
We make hastily planned escapes, and never talk again,
We know our missions,
We know our causes,
And we go.
Our separate ways, out separate ways out, and our separate ways in.
It's a new path. It's filled with guitars, and noise and revolution. It's all the same old song. Work a job, collect the pay, pay the bills.