…And it continues being culture!!

…And it continues being culture!! The causes, of the causes That you find now all these posers, If you can’t see them, not big losses, He can’t sense it, so now pauses, Now all’s missing but our crosses! Where is it? IT escaped me, What is that happened to be? Why did our god just have to flee? An asshole mocked you and me, our minds now started to bleed. Upon a time, a guy real mad, who was almost like a Greek god, A bloom, a metaphore, a bud, that sang for us, for every lad, this Rock (& Roll), now in you’re ipod. I don't know why’s that is was, That God died one day at last, Money hypnotized him fast, Or who knows, maybe it just was , when real thinking is not a must. If we copy and not create, Just better dance, go and fascinate, stop fooling yourself, and don’t hate, This facade does not suit you mate! Though some may see you at the gate as …”a Society Babe”. Like from a Van to a plane, Our hero now became real lame, Always does happen with fame , And prestige rots deep in you brain, god’s fame now has gone aflame …..(Bye Charlitos …..!!) I’ll not believe no more, no one, Cause it does not matter much, my son, They are tired of searching, that’s so dumb, how they lost their way, they are so numb, This’s sad but truth for today’s young. Wow, now again here he is. Did he arrive? Is it him? why did he come back? it’s a whim? Are the times once more now changing? Or a new idea rearranging? And new old god is emerging? The causes of the causes, for which you find yourself exhausted, You don't get it, so you’re blue, Today is missing, and boy is it true! You keep on looking for something new, I’ll meet you on our next Rendezvous, I think it's all about you …..!! And it's still culture….what I want! Culture is what I want, so remember this! Culture is what I want, so remember this! Culture is what I want, so ….. ACD From original 1-29-90 English versión 11/6/22 mas deux

Nevievv, the Russian Princess.

Nevievv, the Russian Princess. Proudly and regal, her Russian descent, Bubbly, or just flaky her temperament. Her voice’s from above, she talks down to you. Her gaze above her nose is all that you knew. A queen of the trivial, a social princess, In smallest details she tends to obsess What’s true and what’s good she always confuses The good ones she drops and the bad ones she excuses. She talks a good talk, at what she can’t be surpassed You thought she was iron, but was only glass You’d think she’d had more going on for herself than a collection of failures piled up on a shelf. She leisurely ponders, with zero preamble in fear and doubt, she saunters, she ambles She worries and scurries and after she rambles She opens, she clams up and after she scrambles To her everything seems overly important But then for four Weeks she hides or lays dormant, She carries the weight of her life on her back What’s big it’s what’s small and it all turns jet-black And Love and anger, and pity, and sorrow I feel For this little princess, who’s lost in the reel Not trusting herself she spins in this wheel of the wagon she fell off and started the ordeal. ACD 11/3/22….