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, December 18, 2012

West Bethlehem was no place for a 12-year old

Well, it's not exactly a Christmas song, but I like to play it around Christmas as a part of my mix. John Prine's Jesus, The Missing Years.


Charlie bought some popcorn, Billy bought a car
Someone almost bought the farm, but they didn't go that far
Things shut down at midnight, at least around here they do
'Cause we all reside down the block, inside at 23 skidoo.

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