Tuesday, 14 December 2010

Summer of Love

You called it the Summer of Love,
But your generation never stopped the hating,
We're supposed to worship your image,
But it was a lie you were creating.
Tying yourself down in bonds of the world,
That weren't so much freeing as silently suffocating.
And after all that you children were hurled,
Onto a golden altar, idols placating,
You trod the path of Molech again.

And I'm supposed to praise Charlie's makers,
Who opened the box of Pandora,
Said they were givers when they were just takers,

Go on, tune in, drop out,
Miss the warning shout,
Its all your worst parts that you're gonna flaunt,
When you're lost in the cosmos, will you count,
The cost of stellar surfing, on those who come behind.

Now its your Winter of Hate,
Your generation claims we've got no respect.
Running riot, looking for a cause,
You robbed us of anything worth living for.
Now you demand that we behave, well you never did.
Well, this world's full of sixties carbon copies but what's left to fight against,
And its all coming back to haunt you,
Like a youthful reflection, does it taunt you?
And your idol still wont tell you the path.

And Johnny wont imagine a thing anymore,
And Jim, why cant I hear your tortured voice soar,
And everybody's still searching, everybody's still searching,
Because after all that you still never found the door.

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