This is the age of the soft generation
Warmth and heat and generosity
Mostly, we’re the generous ones –
They come to steal
And try to confuse you with noise.
As the head gets harder,
the body gets softer.
But is it real?
They come to steal?
Paranoiac…. No wonder....
It’s nowhere, this fight; nowhere.
Be yourself that’s all you’ve got
The inspiration
The hard sell
Rocks yr head and body too
What do they want to listen to?
What do they want to see?
Pretty things in magazines pretty on TV
Colour sunshine all the year.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem