Let the blackbird out you can't write
No more, so I let him stay there
Let the blackbird fly just to lose
Everything once again
Drown him in whiskey and smoke
To delay inevitable as
He cant be quiet as he follows
From a string as you keep ignoring him
I am too smart for him as I take
Another drink of naivety

There is a blackbird I wont let out
As he murmurs under my breath'
There is an angel which cries life
As the devil cries death

Let the blackbird see every blue moon
Once in a while
See the bundle of burdens shout
And scream as this is just a feeling
But I'm to smart so I wont let them see

I can't, until the blackbird
Shouts and screams
Then this gift of life
Turns into a shallow dream

Once upon a time I woke up and went to school to learn my ABC's
Once upon a time I worked till 9 till 5 ro pay my mortgage off and live my life at 80
Once upon a time I lived in a society of competitiveness and judgement
And realised happiness isn't on a dollar bill
And happiness isn't a feeling just on weekends

A lifestyle of corrupt
A nothing at all
A shopping stall
An ikea mall
Comfier and bigger things brings bigger happiness as content must be through a 20 pound note
Or a new watch
Or a new phone

A workers right to work act
Cut the crap
A race, a repeated lap
A society's rat trap
An artificial lifestyle
A superficial smile
A bite in the ****
All for a polo which has a green crocodile

POWER TO THE PEOPLE
STICK IT TO THE MAN

Safe sound startled
Choir chimes up and down
Away through town
No frown upon the upside crown
The lounging leathers
The Sunday blues
Snoozing on segways
And the passing allabies

We cry goodbye for the shine
Of saying hello or hi
The mood changers the mood swingers,
Now its a last goodbye

Christ or religion
Freewill or free living
Shivering with the gays and queers
Your on your own for this journey through hospital trip visits
And lessons from English teachers
What for? The man said
We all forget it one day

So you can take a journey to Brooklyn state hospital
And find Woody Guthrie or stop being a fraud
And write your own poem

I may be right I may be wrong
But you'll find them both in the Grand Canyon
At Sundown

A sorrow like this in three lines is a paradox
To the silent suffering, to the ones who cry a lot
Like herding cats, a dying character in a pointless plot

The wanderer gets wheat to make bread
The living dead
Rest their heads
On hospital beds
Shrapnel and lead
A ******* crisis
For our wanderer

She blinks
And thinks
About the future of the streets
The teachers pet treats
The ones who like to cause havoc,
The ones who **** in bed sheets

A place not for the wanderer to follow
Not a shallow place of force fed **y
From people who buy sporks for cutlery
A toury filled society

The ones who want priority
Beg for authority
Over the minority
Where is the love
Push comes to shove

A wanderers short lived life
May seem
A memory,
A final breathe
A final dream

A black and white world
An upside down ride
A blues melody
Water from celery
Egos bloom on blossom trees
The love is gone
The feeling is gone
The times aren't like
Highway visited 61'
Polluted to the pupils
In this ghetto mighty world
A feeling, a meaning
Now is shown through a shilling
Workers on mills
Lurkers on shopping tills
A missing thrill
A piece of the puzzle
Missing, gone
Freedom through a casette
humming a tune on Highway visited 61'

The doctors write
The junkies fight
My sweet cream sings
A million dollar cash

A hypnosis watch ticks
A rhythm stick
A stick
A Toast, to a glass of whiskey
In black and white
To say goodnight of what it seems
With a good looking girl
in her baby blue dream

A travellers guide
A missing guitar string
A girl no money can buy
A million dollar note
As the grass grows
We pour whiskey and smoke

The Shepard's skin
The bartenders sing
The days grow old
A coat so cold
My love, my sweet
Liquorice treat
A clappers feet
Just to meet
And do anything

The blind men can't see
A horse by the river
The woman by the sea