Hey Jack Kerouac
I think of you mother
And all the tears she cried
She would cry for none other
Than her little boy lost in a little world that hated
And that dared to drag him down
Her little boy courageous
He chose his words from mouths of
Babes got lost in the world
The hip-flash slinging madmen
Steaming café flirts
They all spoke through you
Hey Jack, now for the tricky part
When you were the brightest star
Who were the shadows?
Of the San Francisco beat boys
You were the favourite
Now they sit and rattle their bones
And think of their blood stoned days
You chose your words from mouths of
Babes got lost in the world
The hip-flask slinging madmen
Steaming café flirts
In Chinatown, howling at night
Allen baby, why so jaded?
Have the boys all grown up
and their beauty faded?
Billy, what a saint they made you
You're just like Mary down in Mexico
On All Souls' Day
You chose your words from mouths of
Babes lost in the world
The cool junk booting madmen
Street minded girls
In Harlem, howling at night
What a tear stained shock of the world
You've gone away without saying
Goodbye
An August day in the hills of Spain, a pair of children emerged from a cave.
The strangest sight there alone they stood,
with skin of green and words no one had heard.
The girl was stronger, the boy was weak,
with her new mother she learned to speak.
And wove a tale of a dying sun, they had left darkness,
a dark world come undone.
They travelled so far. Believing they came from a star.
She fell through life, through time, through parallel lives.
The men of science, the men of fame, the men of letters tried to explain:
Was it parallel worlds or a twist of time to make her
think she'd fallen from the sky?
A whirlwind spun them all alone, took them from their twilight home.
Believing they came from a star.