tie-dyed
you are there in a tie-dyed shirt that has a fish on it and i’m wondering if its some sort of religious sacrament, you, proclaiming everything that is to be proclaimed about jesus (or any other modern-day superstar from long ago) and wearing leather chaps over your jeans–maybe you biked here. you wouldn’t be caught biking anywhere.. you’re song is one of sadness before the seventies are so long gone that the world hurts to look at now and for one blissful second i want to be just like you. take me there, whispers. then i see the-car-of-my-dreams and any mystic element that you once held in my head is now gone. if i looked back (which i did not) you would be gone too.