Frenzied Staring at the Strawberry Fields
It was room,
And a car, and a car,
And a room, and a room
And a car.
But still I feel my lifetime festering pain
Not with my aunt and Uncle
George
But with my father
And the South and the Midwest Sates.
Even Ronald
Shrugged and grinned
Denounced by Spain and Vatican
Unlike Yoko and everyone in
Strawberry fields who made it
Home for grief and mourning
Those scenes usually reserved for
World leaders
And the silent vigil at E.S.T.
David
You mentally deranged,
I’m sorry
I was just saying it as a fact and
It’s true more for England than here.
I just said what I said and it was wrong
Or it was taken wrong.
That I baked as many loaves of bread
As what’s in the miracle in the bible.
That we’re more popular than Jesus
That Christianity will vanish and shrink.
10:30
When I see not the stars
But the spark of the limousine.
David, it was you
Hiding in the carriage vestibule
who shouted my name out from darkness.
After a combat stance
Four bullets struck at my back
And one in front
“I’m shot, I’m shot”
And run few steps toward the
Entanceway.
Then I found myself
Like a Cold Turkey
In a white room listening to
All my Loving
And I saw you David
You whacko flatly local screwball
who ended the symbol of peace,
the voice of the world
which is me!
You never Give peace a chance
But I believe, Jesus did.
It was shown through
Hundreds, possibly thousands
Gathered in Dakota that night.
And in Strawberry fields
They lit candles, but I don’t see them
But I see a Brit leading a rosary
With some on their knees.
Now
Vatican, immigration,
My father, Ronald
And David, who’s in search for fame;
Many of them love me.
Even committed suicide and hopeless for my
Other three companion’s reunion
That’s physically
impossible…
