PSYCHEDELIC STREETS

The Times They Are A Changin’

The air is alive with excitement,
but my life is dead with responsibility.

“Get a job,” my father tells me.
“Go to college and get an education so you can get a good job with decent wages.
You need to pick a career and study hard.”

“Dad,” I say.
“I want to play music.
I love music, Dad.
It makes me happy.
In fact, it's about the only thing that makes me happy."

”Music!
What are you going to do with music?” he replies.
“You can't make a living playing music.
You need to buckle down and get a job.”

Yeah, right.
1967 and you're gonna get a job.
The breeze is blowing Sgt. Pepper through my ears...

She's leaving home...
Bye
Bye

Marijuana sails on a magic dragon.
Puff
Love is in the air...

And love is Sylbie.
Beautiful Sylbie.
Chinese girl.
Long raven silky black hair.
Small sexy body.
She is loaded with talent.
She can sing, act, dance, you name it.
We spend a lot of time with each other.
Hang out with each other.
Talk on the phone, go places together and do things together.
We confide in each other.
But she doesn’t love me.
We are friends.
Really close friends.
Like platonic with hormones out of control.
But not lovers.
I want to be her lover.
But if I can’t be that, I will be her friend.
It’s better than nothing.
Who knows, maybe in time we will become lovers.
In the meantime, she goes out with other guys and makes love to them.
At parties she sometimes picks up on a guy and then sleeps with him.
That hurts.

I was in love with a beautiful girl.
She wasn’t in love with me.