The life if a child of a mother of a drunken husband
Writes in his journal, listening to the Jazz of 2000
And lyrics of potheads: cym-bop… and bee-baphone…
Sky-balls… and saxa-scrapers…on and on
This fluid motion of floating in some fluid,
Some drink that makes this motion of floating,
This life of a child of a mother of a drunken husband who
Writes in his journal, this journal usually
Makes notes of a good life or a bad day,
A day of “drugs, sex, and rock and roll,”
A day that talks of friends, the glorious word for
People who share a purpose that brings them
Together in a positive way.
Together people join to commemorate
Special days that have a special meaning, like
Birthdays or marriages, certain ones that begin
The life of a child of a mother of a drunken husband who
Writes in his journal. To this child, writing is a fun way of
Floating in a fluid motion, fun like a fair,
Fun like discovering a new thing.
Discovery was the way in which fun could be made by
a child of a mother of a drunken husband.
This child has no end,
Not in his writing, nor in his life.
He has no end to the fun and
The discoveries which make him a star,
A bright, glowing star.
This star will never falter; this child will never falter,
This hero will live on. This hero is a star,
This child of a mother of a drunken husband.
This child, born a star, now a hero,
Lives his life, made of dreams,
Made from dreams.
These dreams will never falter,
This star will never falter,
This child will never falter,
This hero will never falter.
So lives the life of a child of a mother of
A drunken husband who writes in his journal,
Given to him by his father.
He had dreams and lived his life,
Like his son who lived it to the fullest.
He was a hero, born a star,
Made a man by his own dreams,
Dreams that never came true.