what did you feel,
throwing some food...
In 1956 we drove my old Pontiac
To the Park Theatre on main...
Come grab yourself a bollard boy
And I'll spin you a dit...
When the guns fall silent
when the last shots fired...
When the world whispers
the rumors of wars...
Remember, Remember
Half Past September...
Luke I'm not your father
For he is dead and gone...
there is something so wonderful
about launching yourself...
I doubt that you will think of them
But I assure you they are there...
White and puffy at both ends
Those will be our nation's eyes...
Looking out across
these gently rolling hills...
Bullets and rockets on rampage
Claiming innocent human lives...