FOR THOSE BELIEVING
IN GHOSTS
The prairie monster still walks in his clothing :
high and wired, the spirit of the mushroom
and cactus together. Sagebrush and tumbleweed.
It's too late in the early morning for this to happening,
and this old city street is no place for a this cowpoke
illusion - six-guns blazing, he's only a philosopher
of mind that I am seeing. The blind lead the blind,
and they both fall in the hole, while, in a new
tone and a different key, each generation
sings the same old tune.
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