playing hymns of legendary gods;
Zeppelin, Clapton, Who, Tull,
a symphony of musicians so amazing,
weaving spells of unbridled passions against suffering,
against wars, for love,
for creativity and for humanity -
spells born out of madness of musicians
fantasies carved out of imaginations
realities reaching out to you and me -
"Ugh, that music sucks," like arrows in my side,
I turn and see a Hummer yell out obscenities,
"Turn that shit off hippie!"
The beat-up '76 Honda pulled-in behind me,
turns up the hymns of cosmic brilliance,
only to the quickly building vitriol of the teen.
Red light changes to green,
Hummer takes off never to be seen (again),
the vintage '76 Honda pulls up beside me,
a Gramps teachin' his grand-babies the truth,
of what music was and what it still can be.
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