Philadelphia
Crimson flames tied through my ears,
rollin’ high and mighty traps.
Pounced with fire on flaming roads
using ideas as my maps.
We’ll meet on edges, soon, said I.
Proud ’neath heated brow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.
Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth;
rip down all hate, I screamed.
Lies that life is black and white
spoke from my skull, I dreamed.
Romantic facts of musketeers
foundationed deep, somehow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.
Girls’ faces formed the forward path
from phony jealousy.
To memorizing politics
of ancient history.
Flung down by corpse evangelists
unthought of, though, somehow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.
A self-ordained professor’s tongue,
too serious to fool.
Spouted out that liberty
is just equality in school.
Equality, I spoke the word
as if a wedding vow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.
In a soldier’s stance, I aimed my hand
at the mongrel dogs who teach.
Fearing not that I’d become my enemy
in the instant that I preach.
My existence led by confusion boats,
mutiny from stern to bow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.
Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats
too noble to neglect.
Deceived me into thinking
I had something to protect.
Good and bad, I define these terms
Quite clear, no doubt, somehow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.
Sorry, Bob. I thought EVERYONE understood that the Byrds just sang 'em while you wrote 'em.