gifts

we were golden post-war children

we were our good nation’s pride...

dad and mom were war time folks

who had braved Depression tides....

we were given choices, baby,

no one ever had before:

duck and cover or hitch-hike it,

on the road through the cold war.

we were given everything -

yes, even peace, more than enough -

we had growing pains, but baby, 

never really had it rough...

what’s the point then of these blues notes

all these gifts and all these songs?!

if we can’t get this all rightened 

then we will go down living wrongs!

bless us dang ol’ baby boomers!

I am one and still I say:

I still stand for social justice, 

human rights in every way -

you can take the hippie outta’ me,

but you cannot change my ways:

I’ll be hot for world unity

all my more demented days!

we are stardust we are golden -

we believe in being free:

and we’re stubborn yet, from privilege,

we old fools like you and me!

so we’ll sing the Gift of Living -

chances for some Lovin’, too... 

We’ll sing our lives for Social Justice -

you’ll sing for me, and I, for you....