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I raise my glass slowly these days
The wine always rushes my head
The home of the heart is empty
Empty as my bed
A love apart
Seasons to celebrate
Secret anniversaries of the heart
Trumpet the sound
through my younger ages – my back pages
To splash bold headlines on the front page
Sunrise in a place I'd rather forget
Ready now to turn on the light
Because I'm jaded with the dark
Jaded from celebrating
secret anniversaries of the heart
I don't have the time
To wind up a drunk
But I'd like to give it a try
Try rather than cry
Cause something beautiful is dead
And I'm the man to blame
But the playwright's scene
Isn't yet done
Struggling to learn my part
The hours grow weary
For the secret anniversaries of the heart
The Aging Hipster's Guide
Modern rock always – ALWAYS – alienates once hip and modern thirty and forty-year olds who cling to the notion that music was best for the decade between the ages of 12 and 22. Since then, they've grown up, (whatever that means) had a kid or two, a series of postage-stamp sized apartments, finally bought a house, and of course, stopped buying records.
Shame on you. Pete Townshend is very disappointed. Music was once your lifeblood. The soundtrack to the high and low-water moments of your life. Now you search the radio dial frantically looking for something that moves and shakes – though not too much – you've put on some pounds. Unfortunately you're probably going to settle on the oldies station or the classic rock station that plays Crocodile Rock each and every single morning.
So to you – jaded music lover of yore – if you aren't ready to experiment, to tinker around with your stereo, to push you
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
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