Hero’s urban and beyond
Suburbans and railed ways
I’m a Bob Dylaned man
Styled my style
hero of ma blues
and the sadness of knowing
too much,
he taught the tricks that I use
helped me select the duels that I choose
I’m all rainbowed and rebelling
I’m tangled
and I’m up in blue
Joanna used me as a pawn
her game made my poecy spawn
loving the guitar wookie
waiting up every night to
run into dawn
This rigid scenario the scene
for my orato, the ceiling I hit
like Horatio,
I die a little bit when I mix up the ratio’s
I die a little,
when my ear drums on the radio
signals like my Batman’s
chasing away my two faces from each other
I melted my inner Mr. Freeze,
and my heart developed an uncommon breeze
I see now how my poison was lively
and self-destruction is urban and nightly
I pray to my personal Spiderman
I rolled Mary Jane with Peter Parker
I give the Joker fast food for thought
I’m a face bookworm like the Riddler
and I taught Batman how to talk
I’m Memphis blues in Budapest
and my interest is the intricate
to hear the truth you don’t need a
stadium seat ticket,
just talk to an honest Spiderman
I only know one superhero
he’s my boy Vassili
Akripov
a sub captain, and
at doomsday 1962
when the missiles where
launched,
he staunchly dismissed the order
saying that he had more moral
borders than his leaders
the world would stay and
to this day,
by the Russian state
he is considered a criminal
yet he embodied the nucleus
of heroism,
not just relegating the world
to an orange nuclear
terror and prison
my hero’s are real
and so is their saying no to fear
so you can have your Tony Hawk
but I’m not here to tone it down
so you can talk!
Turbans are wrapped
from urban flannels
that urge bans on rap
and tear out little souls
and don’t worry
it can’t hit you if you’re deaf to the tone
you’re safe when your world is
autotune spoken
and your mind is so sedate
that living is just a dream
so clasp your hands
and pray that one of your
superheros
can hear one of your
silent screams
The Daily Blues 