(dedicated to the great Dennis Hopper)
In the jackson county jail,
we ain't got no soft pillows to rest our heads on
we ain't got no fresh fruit
we ain't got no harmonicas nor lutes
we ain't got nothin but pipe dreams of cigarettes,
let alone Steaks and cold budwhysers
we ain't got no human treatment
and the blue-blues think "individual" is a foul word.
we ain't got no lithe Nicoles or Veronicas
with their shapely, civil ways
we ain't got no books with scholarly reasons
for purely "civil" resistance...
We got 18 year old Christmas tree
with a good head, good will,
and a goofy smile:
just waiting for the ol fascist chopping block
we got Rob,
the freight-train wanderer
an' his movie-star looks and lush ways
we got a lot of barely phased, all-right Mexhicanos
ready to enjoy the land of opportunity
by hook, crook, or Glad sandwich bag.
An' we sure as non-existent hell
don't have no easy chairs like i sitting on,
no DVD players like i'm watching "Easy Rider" on,
no good opium like i'm smoking,
and not even none of this lousy vermouth...
i drinking with strawberry lemonade!!!
