manic_panic
Bluelighter
“Cities of my Mind”
(Reed Rosson)
Burnt-out streetlights and hipsters
Graffiti art on green dumpsters
There are all sorts of pretty places to go at night
Cities of my mind are polluted sometimes
Honks are heard, cries are ignored
Screams are common, dreamin’s a chore
Although a massive populous gets bored
it doesn’t make sense why cities aren't built here anymore
Corners are out of order in awkward places
They sit on the border of my childhood’s faces
Pure scents are spoiled by a race of American whiteness
because white Wonder bread in a family ain't a disgrace to taste buds
Vending machines break like weak wooden fences
The homeless have to sleep on the street
because these cities have no benches
The parks are like playgrounds open 24/7
but believe me these cities are not perfect
No comparison to heaven
Oh, at least the strong though soft sun shines every single day
and epic, brave new stories are constantly being told
Every now and then it gets a little hot
but it very rarely ever gets too cold
There are theatres and thrift stores
and little theft or crime,
in the cities
of my mind
~
“Somewhere in the City (Smilin’ Stranger)”
(Reed Rosson)
Jello-belly bebop
Supreme cheesecake haven, sprinkled donuts, a cop
chuckles with glaze on his double-chin..
then he grins like an idiot, grease in his brain
and flakes of fresh prejudice on his skin
Outside on a cracked sidewalk a black homeless man
toothless, sitting Indian style he asks me for a buck
I tell him okay because I’ve got such better luck
and ‘cause it could surely be me someday
I even shake his hand and give him a hug
I like to think that he hadn’t smiled that wide
in quite a while, you know, not since long ago
when he had a wife, and a child
Laundromat terrorism and soda-hyped-screamin’ kids
Overstressed mothers resort to flippin’ their hot lids
“These heathens oughta be shackled down at home,”
one lady exclaims, as her husband’s at work with no emotion shown
and he is a father with always nothin’ to say
except for “leave me alone”
(‘cause he digs up the bones?)
so the whole family will obey
‘til they need a new cell phone
At the sight of these kinds of scenes
my spine chills mean in sync with my heart
and sends sharp signals during hot-to-cold-sweat dreams
Pop culture shock, Pacman, bubblegum ‘n stale pop-tarts
Arcade videogame blinking street trash nightmares
they make a sane person crazy way out far
like our old friend Daffy Duck, quacking-insane
Squeezed ‘n consolidated suffocation in a mason jar
That’s how I could compare the strangest of pain
Everyone wants to be a goddang rockstar
and make themselves somewhat of a catchy name
and buy four or five cars that always sit in the garage
Somewhere in the city it’s a greater day for a particular one
and they may be lonely
Somewhere in the city it’s a better day for the stranger-than-some
because they’re homely
Somewhere in this city…
it’s a gleeful day for free
And ah let’s see, most fortunately
somewhere in this city…
it’s the most beautiful day
for some smilin’ stranger like me
~
(Reed Rosson)
Burnt-out streetlights and hipsters
Graffiti art on green dumpsters
There are all sorts of pretty places to go at night
Cities of my mind are polluted sometimes
Honks are heard, cries are ignored
Screams are common, dreamin’s a chore
Although a massive populous gets bored
it doesn’t make sense why cities aren't built here anymore
Corners are out of order in awkward places
They sit on the border of my childhood’s faces
Pure scents are spoiled by a race of American whiteness
because white Wonder bread in a family ain't a disgrace to taste buds
Vending machines break like weak wooden fences
The homeless have to sleep on the street
because these cities have no benches
The parks are like playgrounds open 24/7
but believe me these cities are not perfect
No comparison to heaven
Oh, at least the strong though soft sun shines every single day
and epic, brave new stories are constantly being told
Every now and then it gets a little hot
but it very rarely ever gets too cold
There are theatres and thrift stores
and little theft or crime,
in the cities
of my mind
~
“Somewhere in the City (Smilin’ Stranger)”
(Reed Rosson)
Jello-belly bebop
Supreme cheesecake haven, sprinkled donuts, a cop
chuckles with glaze on his double-chin..
then he grins like an idiot, grease in his brain
and flakes of fresh prejudice on his skin
Outside on a cracked sidewalk a black homeless man
toothless, sitting Indian style he asks me for a buck
I tell him okay because I’ve got such better luck
and ‘cause it could surely be me someday
I even shake his hand and give him a hug
I like to think that he hadn’t smiled that wide
in quite a while, you know, not since long ago
when he had a wife, and a child
Laundromat terrorism and soda-hyped-screamin’ kids
Overstressed mothers resort to flippin’ their hot lids
“These heathens oughta be shackled down at home,”
one lady exclaims, as her husband’s at work with no emotion shown
and he is a father with always nothin’ to say
except for “leave me alone”
(‘cause he digs up the bones?)
so the whole family will obey
‘til they need a new cell phone
At the sight of these kinds of scenes
my spine chills mean in sync with my heart
and sends sharp signals during hot-to-cold-sweat dreams
Pop culture shock, Pacman, bubblegum ‘n stale pop-tarts
Arcade videogame blinking street trash nightmares
they make a sane person crazy way out far
like our old friend Daffy Duck, quacking-insane
Squeezed ‘n consolidated suffocation in a mason jar
That’s how I could compare the strangest of pain
Everyone wants to be a goddang rockstar
and make themselves somewhat of a catchy name
and buy four or five cars that always sit in the garage
Somewhere in the city it’s a greater day for a particular one
and they may be lonely
Somewhere in the city it’s a better day for the stranger-than-some
because they’re homely
Somewhere in this city…
it’s a gleeful day for free
And ah let’s see, most fortunately
somewhere in this city…
it’s the most beautiful day
for some smilin’ stranger like me
~
