Waking Up from the American Nightmare

(dedicated to Michael Stipe and REM)

I don't need no MTV,
I don't need no SUV;
I'm a little like the birds and the bees,
children of order and anarchy
still flying
but...

precariously

I don't need no flattery
don't need you to think about me,
don't need to be completely free,
don't need to balk at heresy;
See I'm a little like the birds and the bees,
children of order and anarchy,
still flying
but dropping like flies
from the Amazon to Tucson, Arizona
(where Liz Lindgren has up and gone
trying to adapt
to this neon nuclear dawn,
still flying
but only...

precariously

I don't need no Christmas Lights,
don't need these drama-queen patriotic fights,
don't need no police or Bill of Rights,
oh, don't need no more gin distorted city nights!

I'm a little like Harry Nilsen or Thorogood:
bitter, lush, and SO misunderstood,
soul weary
(cold and bony tired)
just 25 and I don't mind dying...
but I'm still flying,

precariously