sometimes I still ride bareback
Posted: March 19th, 2013, 7:58 am
the mango sun offered a trippy interlude
for an angry young man
stepping out into the summer of love
trying to squeeze a drop of meaning
from the establishment of war
living the cosmic twists of the rising new moon,
and a beautiful new child was born
in the psychedelic seeds germinating in the stalls
of unstable stables, and we instinctively knew
we wouldn't need saddles anymore
our nights would now wear white satin
the old red doors would be painted black
we'd sail thru octopus' gardens in yellow submarines
along the green river with brown-eyed girls
we'd dance with the devil with the blue dress on,
we were the new riders, galloping through the purple sage
searching for a heart of gold,
in the sunshine of our love
for an angry young man
stepping out into the summer of love
trying to squeeze a drop of meaning
from the establishment of war
living the cosmic twists of the rising new moon,
and a beautiful new child was born
in the psychedelic seeds germinating in the stalls
of unstable stables, and we instinctively knew
we wouldn't need saddles anymore
our nights would now wear white satin
the old red doors would be painted black
we'd sail thru octopus' gardens in yellow submarines
along the green river with brown-eyed girls
we'd dance with the devil with the blue dress on,
we were the new riders, galloping through the purple sage
searching for a heart of gold,
in the sunshine of our love
