Crimson flames tied through my ears
|
Rollin' high and mighty traps
|
Pounced with fire on flaming roads
|
Using ideas as my maps
|
"We'll meet on edges, soon," said I
|
Proud 'neath heated brow.
|
Ah, but I was so much older then,
|
I'm younger than that now.
|
|
Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth
|
"Rip down all hate," I screamed
|
Lies that life is black and white
|
Spoke from my skull. I dreamed
|
Romantic facts of musketeers
|
Foundationed deep, somehow.
|
Ah, but I was so much older then,
|
I'm younger than that now.
|
|
In a soldier's stance, I aimed my hand
|
At the mongrel dogs who teach
|
Fearing not that I'd become my enemy
|
In the instant that I preach
|
My pathway led by confusion boats
|
Mutiny from stern to bow.
|
Ah, but I was so much older then,
|
I'm younger than that now.
|
|
Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats
|
Too noble to neglect
|
Deceived me into thinking
|
I had something to protect
|
Good and bad, I define these terms
|
Quite clear, no doubt, somehow.
|
Ah, but I was so much older then,
|
I'm younger than that now.
|
|
-----------------
|
My Back Pages
|
| The Ramones |
