Hip

Sat, 01/18/2014 - 15:20 -- cjd8363

Was it the death of a scene,
Or a misguided dream
Realized in the process
of hitting the streets,
Trying to make a name,
- For what reason? -
Unknown.
Just to be heard?
Just to be known?
To have a place to stay
On the tips of tounges,
Or corners of hearts?
A safe place to share together
Made by the chance of a beat,
Lost with the feeling of conciet,
That tarnished your view?

Cheap gold for your soul,
Lost with the graffiti murals
Advertising your space;
Empty fields left fallow,
Waiting for that meaning to be replanted,
But the soil erodes,
And you're oversold,
But the beat keeps on clappin'.

Don't tell me it's dead
When you're sitting with a bloody bat,
Too deep to turn back.
Given the chance
You would still keep the crap and
I'd still be laughing,
As you wonder why the kids keep sayin'
That the time is dead, and so are you.


But I still wonder why they're
Lowerin' the casket when I'm dancing
To the rhythm of that heartbeat still singin'
That started back when things were worth hearing.

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