The Golden Jubilee of John Lydon (*)
When there's no future, how can there be sin
We are the flowers in the dustbin
Left to compost, turning to mold
Easy innocence is getting old
No more future, and we've eaten the past
The golden present is here at last
Nostalgia makes our daily bread
All of our music is already dead
The human machine will not stop or slow
No future, we said, that was decades ago
Oh lord God have mercy, all crimes are paid
Now that we live in a world that we made
* Some lines of this poem incorporate lyrics from "God Save the Queen" by the Sex Pistols.
Copyright 2004 Rich Puchalsky
E-mail: rpuchalsky@worldnet.att.net
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Last modified: August 19, 02004