Montag, 10. September 2012

I'd rather die.. (64th Chorus)

I'd rather die than be famous,
I want to go live in the desert
With long wild hair, eating
At my campfire, full of sand,
Hard as a donut
Cooked by Sand
The Pure Land
       Moo Land
       Heavenland Righteous
       the thing

I'd rather be in the desert sand,
Sitting legs crossed, at lizard
High noon, under a wood
Board shelter, in the Dee Go
Desert, just west a L A,
Or even in Chihucha, dry
Zackatakies, High Guadalajara,
-  absence of phantoms
    make me no king -

rather go in the high lone land
of plateau where you can hear
at night the zing of silence
from the halls of Assembled

Jack Kerouac // Mexico City Blues

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