Old Stones Never Die

Mr. Richards, your cigarette is hanging
From a tentative lip
Time’s uncool cats have scratched their claws across your face
Shocks of gray have teased your hair

Oh, devil-gods, don’t make us remember the dreams we dropped
Blow some smoke into our eyes
That’s it, Mick
We want to forget the hard years
'When last we felt alive' and
Oh, not so long ago was it

We wanted to change the world, but the world goes on without us
Not even paying

And some new rebel has taken up the cry
Usurped the stage
Youth’s mad discordant riffs
Up and down a six-string of illusions.

Keep on rollin’, boys
Jump the jack flash and rock us back to sleep
‘Cause there ain’t never gonna be no
No no never gonna get no

(Previously published in Vol. No. Magazine, Winter '99, Vol. No.26)

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