“H E A D – S T O N E D” ‘Not just another ol’ Rock n’ Roll collage .’ Hey, We gave peace a chance ; but it is, still a Helter-skelter for all of these unknown soldiers of freedom ! Now, do let U.S. take a bow, for our next new’ revolution, and pray that we don’t get fooled again ! N’ then… when thee altars of the Just are crushed, by such a wave upon wave of demented avengers ; who will still, come marching so cheerfully out of obscurity, right into the Sandman’s dream, with all of their’ most spirited’ screams ! Wait --- is everybody in ? The ceremony’s about to begin… Wake-up, wake-up ! Unlock those Doors. Yo, all you Children of the Sun : don’t you ever just wanna see yer Pope, at the end of his’ rope ? Even you too, must now think He’s a fool : your’ children, are the children of the grave. You’re the kind of people that also crucified Christ ! Do U’ still have to carry that cross ? Drop it ! Lo n’ behold, Luc’y in the sky, I’ve got some bad news for You Sunshine. Well, do You think U’ can tell, Heaven from Hell ? And yet, things are not what they seem. Whoa, who’s next to be “Led” upon this golden Stairway to Heaven ? Oh, yer Majestic Superior Catholic hand, yer’ people, I just cannot understand. And Rover, don’t U’ dare point that plastic’ finger at me ; as for, I am the one who has gotta die, when it is time for me to die. So, let me live my life, the way I do so want to. N’ then, if a ‘six’ should ever turn-out to be a ‘nine’, fall mountains… with but a jammin’ wave of this left’ hand, my great band, and a grand-stand of about well - over’ four-hundred-grand ! Oh say, cant you see, the stoned’ freedom in that star-spangled’ guitar ? Or, haven’t U’ ever experienced such strange forces ? Be ‘bold as love, right’ under their’ Watch-Tower, my flower ! N’ go w/the flow : as freedom’s just another word, for nothin’ left to lose. Believe me : you’ll see, we can ‘let it be’; ‘cuz, it really aint worth nothin’ McGee… if it aint all truly free. So gee Lord, wont You please, save me a night on the town, a new Mercedes, and a color T.V. ? U’ know, you can petition the Lord with thee most solemn prayers ; but Father, don’t you see, that we may only want to kill thee, by the end o’ the day ? And Mary, you’re nearly a laugh, but, you’re really a cry. Why’ not leave all o’ these children alone ? They don’t need no education. And, as for you, Mr. Big-Pig ; U’ too, simply look like a fool out’ a-school. Hear’ ye, here ye : all rise --- now do come-on and just sing’ along, one n’ all --- “Let’s tear down this wicked wall !” (In between, Church n’ State.”) Be seein’ U’ all… at the ‘Wreckin’ Ball’. Yeah great, but wait, for heaven’s sake : because real soon, one of these days… before everything under Her’ Sun, is eclipsed by Our Moon ; She’ll just try n’ convert all you lunatics into some little Lamb’ cutlets. And then, when U’ hear, “Welcome my son… welcome to the Machine.” Dude : you’d better run all day, and run all night, as you keep all those feelings way’ down deep inside ; while you try n’ find yer hole in the ground, to hide from the Sun. So go now, run, run, run : U’ know you’ve missed the starting-gun. And son, yer’ White – Knight is still blowin’ in the wind, like’ a DragonFly. Bro’: U’ see why, you do have to try n’ keep a real loyalty to our’ kind ; for it’s so true, they cannot tolerate our mind. But then, look-out behind… as far’ away, across the field ; U’ heard, that tolling of the iron – bell ? Hell’ yes, I guess it has begun. Wow, now this must be the end, my friend. My only friend --- Thee End ! Hey, hey, what about that sound ? Okay, what if you knew her, and found her dead on the ground ? A dead-man walkin’, right down-town ! And’ a thousand people in the street ; what’ a field-day, for ‘the heat’. N’ don’t they say, we’re all just outlaws here, in ‘Z’ eyes of L’America ? Oh, U’ know, f ’sure : and its all because yer mama don’t dance, and yer daddy don’t Rock n’ Roll ; a’ way-back, in that ol’ House of the Rising Sun ! Yet, just the same, who’s ta’ blame ; as I ride-up’ high upon a ‘horse with no name’, while my radio plays some old forgotten’ song : “If I should leave here tomorrow, would U’ still remember me ?” Say there, Mr. Tambourine-Man, where are all those Free-Birds now, who had no more sympathy for the Devil at Saint’ Petersburg ? Go’ on-ahead n’ spin that wheel --- however, should all the prophets estimate the Dead, to be so grateful ? I know I’ll bet my one last silver dollar, and just keep-on truckin’, like the brave travelin’ man, that I am. But damn, I’m sure confusion will be my epitaph, as I crawl this’ here cracked and broken path. So, baby, you wanna take a bath ? In’ a Gadda-da-Vida ? Tho’, before you do Walk-Away, I only gotta say, ‘yer money aint the root of all evil : yo, it’s that Great Deceiver, a Man-Eater, also named Lucretia McEvil’. Believe me, I do fear that Evil’ Black-Magic Woman, has got no soul ; a Great ho’, that takes a whole-lotta hot luvin’, way down below. Night after night, U’ bet ; even-tho’, that smell o’ death is all-around You. Yet, don’t U’ forget, I’ve got this old-time ‘Stranglehold’ on You’ Babe ; ‘cuz, Rock n’ Roll can never-ever die. Yeah, yeah, yeah : there’s more to the picture, than meets the eye. So, don’t U’ go askin’ why ; nor, try n’ buy a new alibi. No joke, it’s do or die ; altho’ it is such a ‘Slow Ride’, when yer always tied to the ‘Whippin’ Post’! For, even as we ‘Riders on the Storm’, who are so ‘Bad to the Bone’, could still ‘Turn the Page’; and then, ‘Fly like an Eagle’, once we’re all on-board ‘The Crystal – Ship’! That is, if we’re not all too-bound’ down, to our funny-money’ merry-go-round ; or, too grounded, by the great weight of this ‘Third – Stone from the Sun’. Set Sun : Your’ day is done… and its been tons o’ fun ; so, come-on girl --- ‘Light my Fire’. U’ know, we couldn’t get too much higher. No way : but then, everybody must get stoned, Head – Stoned, if you really wanna make the cover of, “The Rolling Stone”. Oh Yeah : everybody must get stoned, Head – Stoned, to get on that next cover of “The Rolling Stone”. Of course, You N’ I, we’ve been thru’ all that ; so, let U.S. not talk falsely now, for’ as the hour is getting late ! Hey Joe, where ya’ goin’ with that Machine-Gun in yo’ hand ? The ‘time’ has come today --- to give peace… another chance ! And, all She wants to do is dance. Can U’ Imagine, with no possessions, and no religion too ? No un-Godly reason to kill n’ die for ? Well, excuse me… while I seal’ it with a kiss, to that One-n’ only, Great – Spirit in the Sky ! DragonFly, Harri. (’04, ’06, ’08.)
Posted on: Wed, 24 Jul 2013 20:14:41 +0000
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