Coconut

it was a hot day
the pavement moved and the dogs dug holes

the inside was cold
bless those who work in the air conditioning industry

gypsies talking bout revolution
citys lame and asleep, the coastlines are aglow

towns with numbered streets and dirty gas stations
the east/west roads are travelled and travelled

car loads of glowface robots
knowledge is only taught here

there is no more to know
what a depressing prospect

truth is, we make our own knowledge
the old will hold on to their own knowledge

the imposition is relentless
no compelling at all

well, take your knowledge and find a tremendously large coconut
crack it open, without breaking it in two

place your computer beeper into the coconut immersed in the coconut liquid
bury it in a suburban landfill

the most repectable method of waste control
certainly better than trashing the holy oceans

from there, we can know nothing
what a joy that would be

finding things out on our own
learning from dumbs of the previous generation

knowing that we will get our time and the time is now
we don't know nothing

we are the creators, defining what knowledge means
all the broken folks of the past

all the foolish hypnotized lads
the lure of adulation is a curse on truth

to live outside the law you must be honest
agreed mr dylan and mr thompson

yes, it was a hot damn day.