I Want To Be A Saint, A

The Whole Blear World Of Smoke And Twisted Steel Around My Head In A Railroad Car, And My Mind Wandering Past The Rust Into Futurity: I Saw The Sun Go Down In A Carnal And Primeval World, Leaving Darkness To Cover My Railroad Train Because The Other Side Of The World Was Waiting For Dawn.

I Saw The Best Minds Of My Generation Who Threw Their Watches Off The Roof To Cast Their Ballot For Eternity Outside Of Time, & Alarm Clocks Fell On Their Heads Every Day For The Next Decade.

The Hero Surviving His Own Murder, His Own Suicide, His Own Addiction, Surviving His Own Disappearance From The Scene

Recent History Is The Record Of One Vast Conspiracy To Impose One Level Of Mechanical Consciousness On Mankind.

Democracy! Bah! When I Hear That I Reach For My Feather Boa!