No Joke. Hit The Low Note. We All Go In Heaven In A Little Row Boat.
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed. Devoid of conviction conflicted annoyed. Beat. Looking for the next quick fix. Up against Angels in disguise who want to rob them ; Who didn't want to end up crush by god's embrace In the age of the cold wind blowing and dogs in space ; Who's face are fading. They 're the loneliest drunk. In empty rooms haunted by Thelonious Monk. Felonious punks and plate glass squares That see empty eyes that look straight past theirs. Street walking cheetahs with a gun in each hand Who are lost at sea and are desperate to reach land. Orpheus descending. Swimming in the crooked waters. Hello Sid Vicious, good bye Brooklyn Dodgers..
No Joke. Hit The Low Note. We All Go In Heaven In A Little Row Boat.