Rock and Roll is dead

It started like an earthquake
   with a menacing rumble
   from the Delta
   to all cities and towns,
You could hear it in Honky Tonks
   off the main lines,
   a rhythmic and pulsating sound.

From a meeting at the Crossroads
   and through Muddy Waters,
   an army was bringing it forth.
Led by a King
   who was then just a teen,
   rock was about to roar.

Around the clock,
   from the stocks to the docks,
   from the black
   and then to the white.
The sound was shaking
   the old foundations,
   we all knew
   we were in for a fight.

Down by a Levy,
   some generals died, but still
   there were great expectations.
And then came a rhyme
   of changing times,
   as a call to the new generation.

From Liverpool and London
   an invasion force came,
   beginning the main assault.
And in San Francisco
   even more troops arrived,
   expanding the juggernaut.

There was a weekend away,
   and a summer of play,
   still the revolution grew.
Gods came to play
   their axes screaming,
   and eternity was in view.

It will never die!
   became the battle cry,
   and a generations dream.
But fickle are
   the winds of war - as forces
   worked behind the scenes.

A shimmering orb
   came over the field,
   vultures came circling down.
While the Boss kept faith,
   the poet prayed,
   for there was trouble
   on the ground.

The Armies' lines
   had been broken and fractured,
   confined, redefined and exposed.
The Jackals were feeding,
   the infantry bleeding,
   all the supply lines
   had been closed.

A new King was coronated,
   even the Knights celebrated
   as the old guard lay
   beaten and battered.
Next the Virgin came prancing,
   all fashion and dancing,
   the music it no longer mattered.

Now here we are after
   some forty plus years -
   to kill a beast
   you must cut off it's head.
It's packaging not music
   the industry offers -
   and that's why
   Rock and Roll is dead!

jeyler 2006