Not a thing was fine

The world was unkind

John, Bobby and Martin

The forever Nam

And Uncle Sam

 

400,000 hippies trekked

Never before

In modernity

Had so many gathered

In one place

To share one experience

Totally uncanny

 

They were those

Who felt lost

Knew something was missing

So they attended

To be with cool people

Climb the steeple

To see the promised land

 

They had no answers

Only Joe Cocker’s religion

“What do you see

      When you turn out the lights

      Nothing, but I feel it’s my own”

We all applauded

Even Jean-Paul Sartre

 

With the help of my friends

 

Woodstock was the origin

Of group think

Social media

Everyone searching

For answers

To the same question

Where did I come from

Why was I born

Where am I going

 

Searching

Then an unknown

Had just hit land

With his band

Santana

From heaven

With the greatest

Solo by Shrieve

Soul Sacrifice

I believe

 

We sacrificed

For four days

On the alter

Of sex, drugs

And rock ‘n’ roll

Found nothing

On the ground

At Max’s farm

Done no harm

 

We Pondered

Why we were born

 

No one knew then

No one knows now