how hip were we

the message died

in cloudy mornings, soiled sofas

group hugs explaining nothing

and beating drums went silent

...reinforcements never arrived

and we burned another notion

popped another dream

injected more concepts

swallowing the uncool aid

so we chanted Peace

while fucking our friends minds

why couldn't we believe ourselves

what if the loner stoner was heard

and the rallies didn't melt in our hands

ok, we were right

and now we're what...

wrong?

or simply victims of last night's party

look in the ashtrays

under the tables

perhaps the tea leaves can tell us

that bong water won't float hope

----

rd051811