Sidewalk Talk

I know what you think, but don’t care what you say
things haven’t been the same since the good old days
when Mould wasn’t queer and women were grrrls
and all was right with the world.

We played in these clubs on the Lower East Side.
God! Those days were a crazy wild ride.
We all had no jobs and nothing to do.
Our music was wild and new.

We sang songs on the street and we stayed out past dawn,
far away from our teens, drunk on Levittown lawns.
We lived lives completely, full out in the city.
But these days? It’s such a pity.

The kids in the clubs aren’t anything like
we had in the past when we went to the mics
down on Ludlow and over on Sixth Street and A.
Today those same clubs lost their way.

The streets have changed. The Sidewalk’s changed.
Now that Hightower’s left, the scene’s gone deranged.
The clubs are all sold, or at least they’ve sold out.
The East Village lost all its clout.

Now I’m not saying kids today are the worst
but they ain’t cool like we were in two thousand and first
after Jesus. Back then, we knew what was what!
But these newbies just never shut up.

They keep talking about how things now seem so cool.
If they knew what they missed, then they’d feel like a fool,
collected in one, just embarrassed and numb.
What I’m saying is that they’re real dumb.

They can’t live in our history, and more’s the shame
that they’re lost in their own awful modern day game
of the uselessly dull who can’t carry a tune
– not like how we all used to do.

But we know the truth: it was better back then.
These days just suck, but I recall when
Loisaida sang with a glory untold.
Goddamnit, I feel old.

Baby Jupiter’s gone. The Sidewalk has ended.
The future looks bleak, it’s potential descended
beneath hellish depths, abandoned by hope.
I gotta stop smoking all this dope.

About Jonathan Berger

I used to write quite a bit more.
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