The UpRising Dream

I was caught up in a crowd 
Riot, they yelled,
Riot like a French girl!

I was caught up in a crowd
Fire they threw
Fire like it was 1792

I was caught up in a crowd
Armed with umbrellas - 
Armed like goodfellas.

The night was dusky 
The stars shone lustily
They ate up the night
And urged the rabble 
To fight. 

The hotel keeper wanted
Two hundred bucks a room
Five star, he said
But all I needed was a TV set
And some Loony Tunes

So I spilled back outside
And bought myself a 
Paper cup of scalding coffee
A girl has to be armed with more
Than sweet words and fresh ideas
However wild or lofty.

I was hustling down a side street
Where oil drums did burn
A few bright souls ducked down there
To see what they could learn.
A church lay up ahead, 
It seemed kinda inviting,
It was dangling a bait
But I knew I wasn’t gonna be a-biting
They aren’t selling sanctuary
Salvation or a get-out clause
The Priests they sit above
The rules of morality and law.
It is a vague situation
An atmosphere of dread…
There hasn’t been sanctuary there
Since the last time I was dead. 

I was caught up in a crowd
That chanted all their woes
They do not know why they 
Are fighting, only that their
Fury grows and grows
They work only for the landlord
They toil for a crust of bread
While the rich few lay lounging
In some other man’s wife’s bed. 

I have these rising dreams
They occupy my mind
While the players take over
Main Street, Las Vegas
And the hills of Palestine. 
I am always looking for a room,
Always searching for some peace
But in the back of my mind 
I only want to go and get myself
A piece of the action
A slice of that humble pie

In the sky turns slowly
One solitary watching eye. 

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