Lyrics:
paralyzed!
Legend of the wee folk
Saved by poets' pens
We no longer ramble
Through enchanted fens
Fare thee well; the legend lost
A final bell did toll
lives once the hero has died.
They will drive to the office
Stopping somewhere for coffee,
Where the folk singers, poets and playwrights convene,
Rock is dead
Beat poet and a troubadour
Blues harp and a Guild guitar
Sings about waiting for a lover
Another then a Dylan cover
Folk and beat poets are
lives once the hero has died.
They will drive to the office
Stopping somewhere for coffee,
Where the folk singers, poets and playwrights convene,
face,
For the last stupid song.
Let's get on board
This scattered brain.
Folks drunk as poets all sound the same,
But don't be afraid.
For this
Hello! Good evening, folks
We are the Silver Poets
Here in our thousand mile suits
We're here to get paid
We know nobody ever who got laid
white folks they call me poet
Don't you put me in that box
You know the one that make you comfortable
I know what my cause be
But don't call me no
a rapper he say I'm a actor my mama tell folks I'm a poet
Fuck it let's hop in a foreign
Hop in it, don't even know where I'm goin'
Popping it, fuck it let's
themselves and everyone else
They're not frightened (which we know they are)
(We know they are!)
Others too, more than a few half-poets and musician folks
The Age of Poets
"Definitely, deftly, warp-and-weftly woven in!"
Laughed the late alliterator who had only just come in
As the punchline from
Teachin' folks things
Make sure you know what you're saying
Older folks in our neighborhood
Got plenty of know-how
Remember, if it wasn't for them
You
of me, tell me how many heavenly similes can we blend?
Like women and men would fall with no friends
Like a rose would fall with no stem
Like most folks
motion
MidCoastin
Dead Poets gonna bring a few ghosts in
So far out ain't nobody close in
Stay doin' us doing all foes in
One at a time One at a time
I'm a vegetarian, but in life I eat the meat and throw away the bones
Then comment on what I see authentically in poems
You see, I'm a poet
broke
He compiled a triple decker collection
Of songs from his records
Released as the Smithsonian Anthology
Of American folk
"On Monday morning just
Profetian om mitt fall var mest ett tomt hot
En drucken poet som spetsar sitt kaffe med ont blod
Jag sätter mig på tvären och vägrar att tro er
Och
You into it?
Alright, well let's get into this one
Close your eyes on this one and vibe with me
So in the beginning there was hum
From a poet whose
know it
Grind for my folks can't blow it
Loading up the sticks won't show it
I popped me a bean now I feel like a poet
I want me some pack you see
I am a shotgun rider for the San Jacinto line
The desert is my brother, my skin is cracked and dry
I was ridin' on a folk coach and everything was
where's the throne
I was slick, like poets who know his shit, cold as shit
Thugs that stay loaded then blow throughout the global quick
Fast money
Jeg har sagt det før jeg er her for å bli
Fuck hoes og bitches jeg har ikke tid
Folk snakker dritt men jeg sier nada
Om par år jeg kommer til å ha
the vision
Wanna multiply my funds then folks become division
Can't scream so I'm spitting
Ideal and realistic
So don't mind
Being Pippen or Poppen Ent.
to talk I'mma show it,
Writing these rhymes I'm a poet,
Hitting these bars I'mma flow it,
Don't need the fame I'mma throw it,
I'm thinking mad racks,
Duty bound
To expound visionary doubts
About the whole mess that's going down
Profound observations
A core part of the poet's station
Duty bound
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