The band was good,
but not as good as the competition.
In April, they played with the new kids in town,
letting those rotten Johnny-come-Latelies
open for them
and the singer saw the future of rock’s rule
like looking down the a pistol’s short barrel.

In April, the singer saw the truth
that his was a dead end career
like some sad member of the SS
doing the pub crawl in ’45.
It was all over
but was all beginning
and the singer quit his own band,
hoping to raise a ruckus
like the competition.

The band didn’t like it
but the singer didn’t care
if he forced a crisis.
He didn’t mind a clash
as everyone would discover.

He simply needed complete control.

About Jonathan Berger

I used to write quite a bit more.
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