Thursday, May 21, 2015
Of an aging Rock and Roller, Women tell tales by the Sea
Night washing – seaweed woven into locks of women by the beach
Come to cleanse red capes left behind, a life once was glamorous
On stage he brought under control thousands there to see him croon
Show them sweet persuasion King Pleasure, oh you groomed chanteur
With a jerk of your hips, thrust your pelvis into the oncoming smoke
Fiery wind, this is California where girls come to die, awaken soldier
Musical marine, lead your band members across the imaginary sea
While background singers harmonize, watch them sway back and forth
This rhythm, this decadence mothers warned us about, now explode
Canonize, call upon false prophets, gypsies fall at your feet, lurching
Stars were all aligned this evening, these groupies washed shirt to shirt
Soapsuds undressed dirt from cotton of clothes, rhinestone and leather
Lonesome women came to remember him, not long ago he did damage
For all that he was, began resurfacing their conscience, memory sensational
Beds full of dirty virgins, wormed their way across carpets, wall to wall
The pageantry had begun, who was this messiah, lover how you dared
Touched flesh, smelling, a kind best described as milk, newest unborn
Channeled them through rapture; made love with your voice as you sang
Drank up Manchester, blood in fights you have fought, men you courted
Brought them home as thieves, held the night hostage, broke into homes
That was your youth, raven hair, tattoo skull, smashed guitars, set them afire
As the ocean meets the shore, the girls rinse water from clothes, hum along
Rush of waves crash against rocks, against the years, knew him untouchable
Where do the aged ones go when masters of ceremony call for the show
Laugh lines claim faces that were supple, now plastic, surgery pending
He walks gardens a little slower, unrecognizable in darkened shades
Come grizzly, strum the acoustic, sing a song from your previous life
Make children follow you barefoot in the sand, live long into infinity
Claim authority for all rockers come before you, it is only a beginning
There will be love; there will be love when they all ask for an encore
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