Thursday, November 04, 2004

4 more years

How does he do it? How do they do it? Uncanny and immutable. This is such a happening tailpipe of a party. Like sugar, the guests are so refined.

A confidence man, but why so beleaguered? He's not a leader; he's a Texas leaguer. Swinging for the fence. Got lucky with a strike. Drilling for fear makes the job simple. Born on third. Thinks he got a triple.

Blackout weaves its way through the cities.
Blackout weaves its way through the cities.
Blackout weaves its way...

I remember when you sang that song about today. Now it's tomorrow and everything has changed.

A think tank of aloof multiplication. A nicotine wish and a columbus decanter. Retrenchment and hoggishness. The aristocrat choir sings, "What's the ruckus?" The haves have not a clue. The immenseness of suffering. And the odd negotiation a rarity. With onionskin plausibility of life and a keyboard reaffirmation.

Blackout weaves its way through the cities.
Blackout weaves its way through the cities.
Blackout weaves its way...

I remember when you sang that song about today. Now it's tomorrow and everything has changed.

-Vedder

2 Comments:

Blogger Unknown said...

Rock stars, is there nothing they don't know?

5:59 PM  
Blogger Luke said...

Right on, King J.

8:42 AM  

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