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 Art/whimsically yours

Culture's crumbling, and music's stumbling, in a frenzied dance


the Beatles are a
duet now, but seldom
as two found
Stairway to heaven's
an escalator
that has broken down
Iron man's a rusted hulk
and Aqualung has drowned
~
they civilized the Mongoloid
and Devo is devoid
the Wall is where they hang
the bleached out
red rage of Pink Floyd
~
the kinks have worked
the wrinkles out
but each one has aged hard
while Father Christmas
lies in state 'neath
Hollywood Boulevard
~
Jagger's pushing seventy
satisfaction doesn't matter
Alice Coopers serving food
I can hear those dishes clatter
~
punk rockers grew into  
sneering adults listening to
extreme radio whenever
melancholy makes them blue
~
the modge pit is a empty hole
from days when angst shone through
now body slamming skateboards
makes their old bones
grind anew
as they watch young boys 360
wishing they could do it to
-
bubblegum got chewed up
by a brace of heavy metal
rap replaced the hippy chants
and glocks the flower petals
~
Amateurs have seized the stage
in pitchy tones they sidle
cross the hopes of those who worship
their American Idol
-
Records pressed in vinyl
45's and 33's
are skeleton's in closets
now we'd rather play C.D.'s

Buddy Holly's dust still lies
entombed with all his dreams
just remnants of the fifties
from a plane burst at the seams
oh, God how it tumbled
nose to tail, and tail to nose
oh God how they mumbled
prayers and screams in whirling snows
the big bopper took just seconds
in some frozen fields below
their broken bodies scattered
where the cruel winds of fate blow
~
now protest songs are seldom heard
as kids die in bushes war
seems the writers all forgot
just what lyrics are for
Hell no!! we won't go!
still echoes from
so long before
~
alternative's what they dig now
hip hop, and things obscure
music's changing everyday
adapting is the cure
but way down deep inside each song
lie basics that were riffed
decades back by young souls
who had passions and the gift
~
for Rock it is unmovable
though it's worshippers get stoned
it screams from frets
and snares the skins
its spirits sharply toned
it moves bodies
in frenzies with it's
rhythms only loaned
from the temporary madness
sixty years of
love has honed
~
"This too shall pass!"
cried Harrison
though he's passed,
and rock remains
it mutates into other forms
while songs remains the same.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Artis









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