I Am Not Yet Born; O Hear

It's No Go The Merry-go-round, It's No Go The Rickshaw All We Want Is A Limousine And A Ticket For The Peepshow.

In My Own Prejudice.. I Would Have Of A Poet...whose Worlds Would Not Be Too Esoteric..fond Of Talking....capable Of Pity And Laughter..appreciative Of Womem..involved In Personal Relationships...susceptible To Physical Impressions

And I Envy The Intransigence Of My Own Countrymen Who Shoot To Kill And Never See The Victim's Face Become Their Own Or Find His Motive Sabotage Their Motives.

I Am Not Yet Born; O Fill Me With Strength Against Those Who Would Freeze My Humanity, Would Dragoon Me Into A Lethal Automaton Would Make Me A Cog In A Machine, A Thing With One Face, A Thing

The Sunlight On The Garden Hardens And Grows Cold, We Cannot Cage The Minute Within Its Nets Of Gold