or Young Rebels, Old Rebels
There was a day when the gleam
of electric kool-aid acid tests
sprouted from psychedelic eyes embedded
in the cool breeze of cosmic skulls
ripped with karma and mind alterations
bouncing down hills of marshmallow pies
in amplified metal skins welded together
with 120 decibels of feedback
screaming for wrongs to right,
pains to sooth, for a revolution that will not be televised...
We worshipped the bizarre, the unusual, the new,
always the new, for we were new
and they were old…
Guess what?
We are no longer the young rebels. We have been replaced.
Bummer.
The next generation has arrived,
their nihilistic banners alien and threatening our reign,
and it is we who are wondering what the hell they are talking about…
Perhaps we have been drawn into worlds past,
merely searching in a different direction,
perhaps seeking the universal, the eternal,
neglecting the present;
and so like a fluid that assumes the shape of its container
a new generation flows in
on virtual records
at virtual malls
in virtual worlds
filling the void we left at the turnstile…
and they came from their own darkness...
Growing up 90's (retrospect) by white stone In a list
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