Valley of the Dolls

Blue-hazed streets scatter themselves beneath sneaker-feet
Flashing lights swirl, strobe the alley
The valley of the dolls smoked out
Toked out, joints now disjointed

About time, say the grey and the white
Firing up to tar and feather their own lungs
Drowning their sorrows, knowing tomorrow
Is just another day, one less in their remaining calendar

Disgusting how they carry on, say the cobalt-rinsed brigade
To the indigo line of helmets forgetting
History was merely repeating itself
Generation aping generation, although now with an app

At least they’re getting a bit of fresh air
Grinned an old hack, visiting his childhood haunts
Back before black took over
And raven doctors could claim him

Live and let live, forgive the cliché
Pray you never forget what it was
To be young once and to make mistakes
In a turquoise daze, under a blue sky