PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You wake up in the morning

Get something for the pot

No longer can you tell

Just what is real and what is not

Peering through the blind

You’re taken by the morning rays

Back to the good old days



When some damn fool

Believed in what they said

And look…at where that lead

He spent all day working for

A parking spot

Nothing for the heart

Nothing for the pot



Billy called him up to warn of where…his path would go

Ohhhhhh O

But he had…to have…it all, he wanted his own show

A view of Manhattan, atop of New York

List’n to the stuffed suits talk

Communicating, like in the good old days



Forgive him father, for he has sinned

In the name of life and limb

And a voice said, Billy

He sought the dream too long

Billy, now write this song



Now write this song



Billy tried so hard to warn him where…his path would go

Ohhhhhh O

But he had…to have…it all, he wanted his own show

A final view of Manhattan, a fall in New York

A pause in all stuffed suit talk

Eliminating, like in the good old days

The good old days



Forgive him father



For he has sinned



Father all the lights were dim



Father could we turn back the clock



He was too young to hit

The concrete block





Now Billy sits at home with all the blinds and curtains…closed

Ohhhhhh O

How he wants…to hide…the memory, he just wants to stay home

A view of the shadows that drift cross the wall

Billy this is all in all

Just like in the good old days

The good old days



…Jeff Bresee

Tribute, Roger Waters – Radio K.A.O.S.