this is a poem for the lost and the damned
the people who never get a great big hand
the ones who will never reach the promised land
because they are buried up to their necks in sand
this is a poem for the sorry ones
who wish they had bombs and machine guns
to avenge themselves on the people from hell
who keep them locked up in their cells
all the people in strait jackets
who have never held a tennis racket
or a long stemmed glass with sparkling champagne
the ones who get taken again and again
by the smiling entrepreneurs
in their cashmere scarfs and furs
stepping from taxis in perfect sync
with the golden gods who never blink
blink … blink … blink
give me a minute to think
what was i trying to say?
i think i have lost my way
o yes, the damned and the lost
who have no price, but only cost
who fill the shadowy spaces
between the smiling faces
of the ones who were born to rule
who went to the very best schools…
i had something i wanted to say…
maybe some other day…
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