The road was a deep black.
Sun spotted in parts.
Along the side was a dirty
sand. Slivers of metallic chrome
shone from the brilliant sun.
The sky was blue
and it was a cool day.
A butterfly flapped its wings
and more human rights were gained in
China. Satan smiled but it wasn't Suddam
Hussein -he was just a Devil henchman
with a lust for drinking the blood of his
people from gold goblets in the hot desert.
Satan was hiding deeper within the earth
in a labyrinth of organized tunnels – really
living like a rat – like rats. To catch a rat
you have to think like one.
In the meantime, I’m gonna calm down
this crowd. But not before getting them
to the point of bursting so they can exhaust
their own little game of hatred – and get it all
out for a good, strong, climatic cleansing.
I am the person for this job.
My whole life has led up to this point – the years
in-between pulled back like an archer’s arrow.
Kinetic energy – the potential – and everyone
knows I’m makin’ it on my own. I’m the man for this
job. I’m the man who loves you. I am trying to break
your heart. Live and learn – You can’t always judge
a book buy its cover. Jesus, don’t you know?
A butterfly flaps its wings and there is an avalanche
in the Swiss Alps, killings in Colorado, rape in
prison, an educational system failing that can’t even
reach the creative & bored – (geniuses) - who could
change the world if not labeled difficult because the
poor fool in charge can’t think out of the box – The
system doesn't encourage that; There are people with
disease(s) and where’s our focus now again?
The singer sings while strumming his guitar,
*"Hey Jack Kerouac, what is that you’re saying –
47 years in a pit hole – you might as well be standing
still. Well, it’s all fucked-up, you see.
I’ve been living in the trees –
waiting for, your light to come to me.
Oh, yes, I’m waiting.. waiting, for that lonely day.
Uh, that lonely day.. Someday.. Away.. “
We move to the bar.
She slides her hand across my shoulders and says,
“I don’t care who you are and where you’re from
Or what you do or have done or have or don’’t have
– Your eyes are beautiful.
They shine so bright.”
And so did hers. I was definitely digging her.
But it was time to go.
Time to move on.
Maybe a kiss.
Her breath was sweet
And so was mine.
Her hands caressed my shoulders.
There were men and women all around –
It was tasteful – We’re tasteful -
It was now again.
John A. Conte` JR
July 31, 2004
(Written for Neil Young – Thanks for the music and
*lyrics: Michael Glabicki