Song of the Seventies

Watch, I can write cheerful stuff if I feel like it:

Law and order, said the man
Whose words had long since shown us that
Truth was anathema to his lips.

Stiffer penalties, said the man
Who had it all and wanted more,
His end, like his life, to be desired.

Tits and ass: was once the sum
Of porn, but after ‘69
The game was over, porn had won.

Drugs were once so innocent,
A little grass and maybe more,
Speed showed us where the fun ended.

Of a sudden there were no
More flowers, no more colored lights,
But only darkness, thick, spreading.

Some enjoyed freedom so new,
And over-joyed; they suffered then
A most terrible cleansing.

What else then was left for us,
Except to turn our eyes to god,
To start again the same old search.

A tent show was a tent show then,
To trick the rubes out of a dollar,
With no thought of voting power.

We drove around in super cars,
With super names, but in the end
The gas was too expensive.

The Sixties get all of the press,
But finally, may the truth be told,
The Seventies were just the best.

Harsher drug laws then were passed,
So harsh that juries said, “hell no,”
It was as thought they made drugs legal.

Vietnam, though now our friend,
Had only recently then passed
From horror to indifference.

No more Hippies, no more war,
We could finally concentrate
On just forgetting; getting high.

The Sixties were heaven, also hell,
Fast cars, the draft, and fire fights,
Coming or going, we had no clue.

And babies, cleaver little shits,
The Seventies, lots of us had them,
Don’t judge us harshly, little shits.


February 18, 2008