Joan Jett, a cartoon.
Oh, not Blondie or Lois,
but Hot Head Paisan.
I'd take that money.
Give it to revolution
of boy-girl Patti.
Voice lost in the dark.
Wish I could have brought it light.
I did not burn then.
My Eurydice has travelled to a land all bathed in light,
though, to me, it might as well be plunged in deepest darkest night,
and I would follow after him, but I must have my sight,
and so I fear I'd lose him, looking back, which is not right.
My Jason carries with him all the time the golden fleece
but he is not aware of how much value has the piece
and I would sail across the land to a shore with other seas
to run my hands all through it, that my weary journey cease.
So much as Orpheus feel I, alone and sad too long,
and I would raise my voice to him in dark, lamenting songs
but we shall meet again fair soon, so all is not so wrong,
and I know the art of boy-love, and will not be torn by throngs.
