Where have all the good people gone?

I don't see them on the TV shows
nor blogs that i've come to know.

Gone, gone, gone
like a bell whose toll
is forgone.

I can speak without a word,
from a premonition
that I have heard,
doesn't mean a thing
with the woe
that a heart can sing.

Where is that sweet heart song?
Was I right to be so wrong
following hordes of a fleeting past?

These cultural ties will never last.

I'm a victim of a time...
tear down that mast of
persuasion. It's a blue crystal vase,
holding a wine of an Aegean purview
without reservation.

I could ruminate like you
when I've nothing better to do,
but I'll dance, dance, dance...
madras and mudras, and tantrics
in saris and pants, pants, pants.

I need a trance, trance, trance.

I think therefore I am.
I am love before I can.