Summer of Love

They wonder what's going on in your minds.

I know its one psychedelic season.

Of warm summers, happiness and love.

Heightened awareness of sensory delight.

But how reality played you false.

The nights grow cold and grey needles fall.

How good are your mind shields?

To carry on as the physical fail?

Unaware that the cost of that lie

reveals through the gradual shifts

to the ugliness of your face.

And you slowly die.

You will surely die.

In that psychedelic season

where they injected milk to counteract poison.

In that psychedelic season
whe年 you tried to find Utopia.

In that psychedelic season

you called Summer of Love

there was no cure

for self-betrayal

not when you traded your future.