Flower Child

from by Kai Straw



Produced/Written/Performed by Kai Straw
Additional guitar written/performed by Michael Lostica


See we're lost in the scope of things
A lost generation, a couple hopeless beings
with no care, what's to care for?
We're all werewolves eating up the nightlife
[be]cause life's unfair to
all of us, 'cept when the dollar come
wanna spring like the time before the summer come
Nothin' defines us but pints of liquor
and drunk pictures
anything to make the sun go down quicker
The moon's my sun
My home 'till the movers come
So come celebrate our pointless run
in this history of ours
their history is lies
let's burn it down, fuck it if our history dies
Let's start over, fuck it if religion exists
[be]cause then we'd stop fightin' over all the stupidest shit
And the truth is, man, you are what your mom was
How bout you are what you are, son
Talkin' 'bout

My God, this world it's so cold to me
We're high where the lows should be
Hopefully, we find where our hope could be
It's in I, my fate is mine
And I'm lost, but to me it's found

What makes me, is it the pointless war?
A shot that's poured to ignore the fact I'm alone
Should I join the corp [be]cause I don't got a desk job?
If my success stop, join what I'm a pest of?
Nah, rather be lost then a cost of
A war that's possibly fixed so my boss
gets money from the loss of my life when I fought
[be]cause I'm not a motherfuckin' soul to be bought
Should I, chase the dream that America's deemed as ours
with a white picket fence, wife, 2-door garage
Why? So I can lie and say I'm alright
with a life prescribed to quench my thirst for purpose?
My work on earth isn't about materialism
about your wallet or what's in your fuckin' purse or isn't
It's about now and what now is
Not the minute nor the day nor the hour


I may be lost but it's better than bein' lead
into a grown mold like a plant in a chia pet
We're lead by blind men
straight to confinement
Without prison walls, I use bars to define it
and expose, what's already there and imposed
'cept I use metaphors, poems and prose
some use bombs and napalm set to explode
either way, there's a motherfuckin' truth uphold
And they're watchin' all've us, lost in our youth,
we're used to accept their fuckin' views in school
and we're molded, from our generation to the oldest
into comatosis by those who oppose us
The other night I dreamt I fought behind a bike rack
Hung by my toes [be]cause I write raps
Then they asked me, we're the law, why you test us?
And I said, "Bitch, cuz I'm young and I'm restless", talkin' bout



from The Tragedian's Decoupage, released May 18, 2011



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Kai Straw San Francisco, California

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