My Generation (Version 2005)
let the rockets, red
our nations children-
the dare underneath their desks,
school kid evacuation
"home of the free
land of the dead!"
Bed time stories for
dear Mr. Bush
who's predictability astounds me.
please send us to our deaths in a calm and orderly fashion!
It must have been a far cry from wonderful
to wield your power hungry
of lesser men
don't cry out against you
when they're all too stunned to speak.
I'll offer you no alibi here
after all, my greatest fear
is that one day you will go to far.
Let the soldiers rest
beside my candle bent-
I did stand on the street corner with my sign:
"Talk to Cindy!"
I say, talk to her
after all she's lost more then me
how can you not see;
but Mr. President is naked without his decree.
it curls between my fingers like ivy;
his kiss was once the same way.
Princess Katrina with her wayward whistle
as though the bells for dismissal
were not enough.
S.O.S's on rooftops
it will take years
this one up.
F.E.M.A. faded with their invoice
after four days
their was no one left to rejoice
for the food and water that somehow got delayed.
They shake the hands of the weary
but stay away from the starving;
leery of the angry black man with his gun.
Come on Greenday, don't let me be an "American Idiot!"
"American: Who Gives A Shit?"
The Phantom of the Opera only sings at noon;
I find myself never really in the mood;
I've listened to his serenade before,
his bland and selfish croon.
is a man of god,
Mr. Golden Toes
let alone your foes;
to kill a man is a sin
but to wish it,
you'll never win,
I'll just let God
settle it out with you.
John Roberts is full of quotations
highlighted, dog eared pages
of the stages
that the justice system goes through
(but how can you be a judge and a good Christian to boot?)
My car crash
was the slash that woke me from nineteen years of dreams,
nineteen years of schemes,
beans of knowledge
and Mr. Gasoline
and yes even suicide survivor.
(Somebody wake me up when July ends!)
He and I are connected like no one else on this earth
inside our joined cars;
of his already scarred face,
why don't you see if you can trace
the girl that I used to be
from the girl that I am now,
at least I lived long enough to see the last Star Wars movie.
And Natalee Holloway
she had her death around the eyes
its too bad
no one ever told her not to take rides
This war of ours is quite romantic
the beauty of it all;
who sing their little ditty's
(Steven Tyler style)
underneath the street lamps.
You fall asleep
to dream of them
and their burnt kiss:
Go ahead and wait for it bitch!
Britney Spears is pregnant
and after all she waited so long
as though twenty three
hung like a fog
between her cigarette smoke
and the liquorish cum of her boyfriend
on my TV screen,
she got married just so she could have a kid
in wed lock
not to knock
on the fact that they cut her open the same week that her perfume debuted.
They sent me back to school
so I can be bent (once more) to someone else's persuasion.
I work my nine to five
in this crumbling dive,
I smile, and I jive
inside this violet neon vibe
but am I really still alive?