More cheap angst

No great emotions, no great thoughts.

A few scattered devotions, lying about with the records I’ve bought.

And this generation, to define what it is,

And this nation going to the pits,

I will follow the generation’s character to a tee,

I really don’t care, Abracadabra, please close, sesame.

Nothing to believe in for the past few weeks.

Religion taking my cheeks.

Science, technology, government and society,

Seven different flavored talk show varieties.

But what of rumors of lost soul in blues?

Of Seoul and Peru?

Why slash my wrists when I can watch television?

Maybe melt into a puddle of spit,

Or wait for my children to condemn and destroy me.

Buy the Book!