I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

You Bought a Guitar to Punish Your Ma

Syd Barrett is dead. And I am unexplainably sad. If you don’t know, you don’t know. He was the warning of success, and a Piper at the Gates of Dawn, a backseat driver of immense influence.

Did you exchange a walk-on part in the war, for a lead role in a cage?

How I wish you were here.

On a trip to Cirrus Minor, saw a crater in the sun, a thousand miles of moonlight later

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