The Playlist

I start this journey,
A two year old boy.
I learn my dad's stereo system
Having watched him do it before.
Some day love will find me,
As the opening synths sends me on
My new life's road.

Then, driving through the woods
And over the river,
To grandmother's house I go.
About to slip down, 
I'm so excited to swim.
Life is about fun, and I'm too tired for work;
Play is everything at this time in my life.
We listen to the oldies radio, the whole car ride,
Sitting in another traffic jam.

Seventeen, sweet emotion fills me,
Pleasure filled fantasies of sex
To Two Unlimited and Rock and Roll...
The beginning of my career as a writer,
With pornographic prose and an honest to truth love story.
I find my woman with a face like a gent.
Her daddy says I took it a little too far.

My car, I ramble about for years,
First with my androgynous mate,
And then with my friends;
Going here, there, the summer of fun
And violence. I try to make my living,
But, I'm a rambling man.
Rambling on and on, talking mostly nonsense.

My car is my pride and joy...
You don't know what I got;
I rev my Malibu beside the car
Of infernos---there my sister almost died.
My stereo bumps, overshadowed by woofers
In the hopped up Coupe.
Barrel Rolls, broken hips and brain tissue.

Recovering, Johnny comes to me
And makes a deal---
He's in a bind, and I take the dare.
Thus, he sings of the Devil's Kitchen
And I sing of the Snowy Abode.
He sings of a Welsh Prince,
And I sing of our LORD and King;
My mountain is taller.

I then meditate on the sweetest wisdom...
To be a man, simple and humble.
To search for love, and not be lonely in this world.
It was always my song, my very first song,
But straying from it all these years,
I realize the fantasy was not enough.

Then the trial of every Christian comes;
The fornication with the worldly device.
My captivity, my mission,
They scream what I spoke to her in the closet
On the rooftops. They know my every secret thought,
They turn my life into a spectacle.
It happens. Everybody's been there;---
Information's inebriation.

Then the music dies.
Censorship grows...
My movie begins...
This will be the day that I die---
I wrote the book of love,
I have faith in God above
And what the Bible tells me,---so,
I believe my music can save the soul.

Now I go, walking down the street.
I get funny looks from everyone I meet.
For my youthful offense
I am stained with distrust, and dirty looks.
Everywhere I go, a look of shame appears
On the faces of all around me...
All know my sin,
All know my shame...

I look for work in the city,
But can find none.
I ride the Pride of the Susquehanna.
People on the river are happy to give me their time,
To listen. I wander here, there, looking for an answer
To my disgrace and poverty.
I have no money,
Wandering the streets, shamefully.

In my music, I drift away...
Writing my odes of blaspheming kings,
Doppelgangers, witches,
Dragons and satyrs,
True Love and advanced civilizations.
I get lost in my creativity...
I get lost in the rhythms of my
Playlist, waiting for when I fall in love.

Then I see her face.
I started thinking love was simply a story I wrote...
A beautiful thing I kept on my keys.
A fairytale like my kings and queens.
But, I saw her face once more,
And there was no trace of doubt.
My first I gave all, and got nothing.
Now, the face of sunshine makes me believe in love again.

I, the loser of losers,
Fell in love with the Homecoming Queen;
And she loved me.
I believed in my dreams.

She said to me,
"Do you, you, feel like I do?"
And for life's longest season,
We made time for loves.

Life returned to the simplicity of childhood.
The pure, exalted joy of youth prevailed;
Life was good again...
It was like sitting at the Kokomo,
Listening to a steel drum band.
She and I reclined, filled and old as the songs
I listened to as a child.

At the end of life,
I blessed Jesus, and said,
"This life was just alright with me."
And I drifted off to sleep one day,
And woke up someplace else;
Someplace better.