Lately it’s occurred to me
What a long strange trip it’s been
I’ve always been a Deadhead
Jerry Garcia sang my youth
Wasted though it was
His music is the background to my life
I took off work to mourn
The day he died
I cried to Casey Jones
While I laughed thru my tears
Remembering the sixties
And knew he was right about it
What a long strange trip it’s been
And it isn’t over for me
I’m still truckin’
Building up more memories
To replace the ones
That were lost to the abuse
The brain cells killed
By one drug or another
I’m clean now
Too old to even be tempted
But I understand what happened to Jerry
He tried to hold on
When he should have let it go
Just let it go
Drat! I thought this was going to be about me, but naw, it's about a doofus and you told it like it was . . . There is nothing more pathetic than an old fool . . .
Ah, shoot. I thought this was going to be about Jerry Bolton! Or Jerry Engler. LOL Still and all, Jerry Garcia was quite a musician; loved his music. (Still like our Jerry's music, in verse.) Well done!
This was no mere illusion. Colin Chase Rand, pulled through a magical portal, landed in 1935 where the dust bowl and the Great Depression was destroying lives, and a serial killer was in their midst
In the waning days of World War II, a man lies injured in a London hospital, shrouded in mystery and confusion. He is an American serviceman, stripped of his identity and memories, save for the name John, and plagued by vivid visions of battles that
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Regis
Fee
Love Tinka
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
My hats off to our Jerries!