" A Generation "
Pushing time, pushing plenty, born in sixty-nine.
I am an acid child and I will feel fine as soon as I drop another line.
Line made, line done, bleeding nose, bizarre dreams.
But it does not matter either way as long as I have my cocaine fade aways.
A line to get me up and a line to get me out.
A line for breakfast and a line for dinner.
A line for everything, except my memories.
Living on the line, born in sixty-nine.
My folks were whacked when I was doing nine months inside.
Well that explains a lot but what explains this.
Big furry monsters running in my head blocking everything from view.
White rose petals floating over my head.
Oh do you have the time so I can make love to you.
All the beautiful magical colours I see with my eyes.
They are not real but I see them most of the time.
And life is dreams upon dreams upon dreams upon dreams.
So I am born in sixty-nine and you know what.
I always seem to find the time.
So if you want to sing a line and fly across the planet.
Take a trip down my generation.
Cause I have some real interesting habits
By Syrbastyian Vzampfyier
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