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Back in the Sixties, a song was wrote
about political baggage we were made to tote,
War going on, and shoved down our throat ---
No one and everyone was a suitable scapegoat . . .
No logical answers could seem to be found,
and the Revolution did hover around---
None in The White House, nor on the ground,
Was there anywhere, a mind that was sound?
I've searched for the answers, just glance at my boots,
There's holes in the soles, and I've lost all my roots.
Now thirty years later, we're not on the mend
My long hair is blowin' along in the wind. . . .
Here comes The Millennium, Oh! What will we do-
Are religions and philosophies tried and true?
Well frankly my dear, I don't give a damn,
As long as I'm certain of what I am . . .
That's all that matters, and I trust myself;
My sins and errors are displayed on the shelves.
I'll keep on walkin' and I'll never bend,
and let my long hair keep blowin' in the wind . . . .
~CL!
replyemail lefty44@swbell.net
URL ~http://members.tripod.com/~Zimmied/missbehavinindex-4.html
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