-
Today i wanna start
a revolution
wear my beret
get my old gun
and be gone away
-
but this old fight
is nothing but old
I fight with ancients
throwing flowers
in bad arrangement
-
I fight with warmth
my gun, my dead lies
I stand beeming
blowing shit up
in Christ redeeming
The poet doesn't invent. He listens.-
Jean Cocteau
