Love Ballad Of My Generation. | Rebelle Society.
Sitting on the hood of my Torino
I scanned the streets of Ocean City,
smelled the sweating August tar
Of our last summers burning.
These girls hugged their diaries to their chest
and we’d gaze
we’d gaze through
Sunlit dust and dandelion fairies
eager to unbutton their secret stories about us,
always about us,
and our eyes made such nimble fingers.
We were outward bound on inward glory…
always thinking about love
hoping on plans that’ll get us laid by
a girl who wears daisies in her hair.
Big sweet flowers for the butterflies
Stirring in our stomachs
Fluttering to land softly at the entrance
of her big… sweet… flower.
… My generation loved love.






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