Dear friend, it is the new year,
I'm eight hours away from home.
Kids shoot fireworks from street corners
and run before they explode.
And lovers get drunk on the roof
of an underground grocery store.
You know my new years wish is
for the place that I call home
to stop this stupid war.
If they don't we'll burn each others' draft cards.
we can write an epic poem,
except in this one Grendel is the hero,
Gilgamesh finds his new home.
Far away from swords and fake chivalry,
we've seen the faces of our true enemies.
They don't pay us enough to live on,
every year they raise the rent.
They will hold cards to our faces to rate us
on how much we have or have not spent
and all for their own evil intent.
Today I saw a great piece of graffiti,
it had birds and spoke of reverie,
Oh Emily Dickinson, you never seemed
so exciting I must say.
But without grass or buzzing bees,
we all can have our own prairies
and fireworks will serve as stars at the end of this day.
Oh and the world it does keep turning,
I used to wish I could sit still
so that one day we could meet again
with or without our own will.
But the miracles in motion,
finding new places we belong
and finding inspiration to sing our brand new songs!