For the Beatniks

from by Rainstick Cowbell

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lyrics

come and be the one who sums it up
sits alone and does no harm
let’s your verses speak of wombats
metaphors are yours to toy
Bang, Bill, the bullet’s spent
Joan Burroughs is laid to rest
all at once there came the Beatniks
rising up to experience
let there be the oratator
spill your words and help us all
I miss you, Lew Welch
you should not have wandered
out through the cabin door
trees envelope
pursuing perfection
that shotgun won’t take you there
I know you
I do the drugs that you do
packed so tight it’s claustrophobic
all black ties
before tie-dyes
the poets gathered reek of whiskey
cigarettes and barbiturates
your time has come and gone
bookend at Vietnam

credits

from fireants, released May 1, 2009

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Rainstick Cowbell Portland, Oregon

“Rainstick Cowbell makes searing music that’s intensely personal…[from] intense, clear-eyed rants to unhinged exorcisms. It’s exhilarating to hear music this raw.”
—Portland Mercury

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