The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age
jollyroger's picture

Subcommandante Shaleen or The Reprobate Revolutionary Redeemed

Written in April 2005, at the height of the Bush tyranny. I thought it could be retired when Obama was elected. I was wrong...

 

When I first met Abbie Hoffman

It was 1965

Three years later at Grand Central

We just bare got out alive

 

I'd dropped several hits of acid

And at midnight less a half

Met a girl whose name...I can't recall

Took her home to fuck and laugh

 

When the cops came in, clubs swinging

We were just ten minutes gone

Now they've murdered Clark and Hampton

and poor Abbie, he's moved on.

 

Do you remember how, for Cat Ballou,

Lee Marvin sobered up?

Had his sidekick lace his corset?

Slipped his balls into a cup?

 

Now Jane Fonda's well past sixty,

But she still is lookin fine.

Claims she ain't been laid in six years,

Jesus, baby, it's past time.

 

Though her hips be not as narrow

Nor her eyes now quite as wide,

we'd still saddle up for Janey

And ride all night to her side.

 

Kid Shaleen is slowly waking.

Abbie's ghost still gives advice.

Let us be now what we once were,

No more frightened little mice.

 

It's round two of revolution

Time has come for throwin' down.

Strap your balls high and your guns low

'Cause the boys are back in town

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