In The Day We Sweat It Out On The Streets Of A Runaway American Dream
At night we ride through the mansions of glory in suicide machines Sprung from cages out on highway nine, Chrome wheeled, fuel injected,and steppin’ out over the line H-Oh, Baby this town rips the bones from your back It’s a death trap, it’s a suicide rap We gotta get out while we’re young `Cause tramps…
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Grouses Of The Holy
Yet this is not the case. Finding Led Zeppelin on the radio today is no more difficult than it was in 1973. If you stroll around the campus of any state college, the likelihood of finding kids wearing Zeppelin T-shirts mirrors the likelihood of finding kids trying to buy weed. This summer, British fashion designer…
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Thirty-Three-Hit Wonder
Joel was wearing a black T-shirt tucked into black jeans, black Vans, and an Indian Motorcycle ball cap. The back of his head, where hair might be, was freshly shorn, and his features, which in dark or obscure moods can appear mottled and knotted, were at rest, projecting benevolent bemusement. To prepare for the flight,…
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