Cello cello cello
I'm retracing
well worn,
tube rectified,
bum-a-lum ha ha
footsteps.
We're gonna put
back on our
"fuck you Beatles"
guitars n smiles
for one more ride
before G-Black
returns to empty.
I'm remembering
pictures in stereo
of every ride.
This is some friendly,
hip shakin' rock n' roll.
Time is slippery
'cause I feel
so much sunflower
n butterfly
growing like rosemary
through the
past presence
of these songs.
Sometimes
words can't even say
the way I feel about you
today.
She wanted to know
what those Model Rockets
meant to me.
Love.
We are all the pilot
and it's good to have a friend
four teen angels
on a rocket ride
that never ends.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Tell the Kids the Cops are Here
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
alas, like the elderly onanist, i am spent. it will have to wait.
'fuck you beatles' - what does that mean i wonder. they do nothing for me but i thought i was the only heretic.
mrs AM - i shall not tolerate smut on mon blooger - consider this your first written warning
"Fuck you Beatles" is what a guy in a Mohawk kept shouting at the Model Rockets when we opened for the Supersuckers in Dallas. He was right, we really were kind of a "fuck you Beatles."
Sweet AM is wonderful trouble, approached from any angle!
thats very funny - the mohawk was clearly a man of letters.
terrible trouble AM, terrible
Post a Comment