A match is dropped and the Ohio River goes up in flames
And the smoke filled up the ****** lungs of sweet little lady Liberty,
Rose scented thrift store day ream turned black
Black like the street punk's spiked leather vest worn ragged by a lifetime spent running headlong into brick walls
And red, God how they saw red!
Red like the cherry tipped death inhaled by your sunset haired dream girl in the passenger seat
Hark! These herald angels sing
Drunken anthems to bar rooms of disillusioned art majors newly reborn as kings
Killing time by means of self obsession, searching for the newest thing to be offended by
And what home have you to return to, Prodigal Son?
Climb the police blockade and cry your apathy to the skies!
Lest ye be judged by a jury of your own co dependent peers
Scratch your writing on the tenement wall with nails painted black
Black like the flags flown high on blood thirsty sails far out to sea
And tell them, tell them how you wept for art and nature!
Son of rage and love, your blessed values were imported
Leave the sealed halls and sacred corridors of your ideological temple
And turn your blood shot eyes to the sky
To witness, a manic depressive pilot writing in smoke
"Help us God!"
But then, he felt pretentious so he circled back around to replace "God" with "Mr. President"
My love, your strung out serenades will never melt Bohemia's frozen heart
Set all the fires you will
Set fire to your vanity!
Set fire to your love!
Set fire to the Ohio River that raised you up
And return to the basin of your birth