Memories and Dead Flowers (Revised)

In the year of sixty eight when we grew our hair long A rebellious Generation X declined to hold it’s tongue The dawning of Aquarius was time for love and peace Giving birth to ideals that were beautiful and strong The obscenity of war was something not to be ignored We prayed to Buddha, Allah, Krishna, my sweet Lord We sang our protest songs, don’t send kids to Vietnam Craved the world’s salvation whilst seeking no reward People thought us crazy, said we could not alter fate Our peaceful demos were smashed up by a police state We told the previous generation they had got it wrong But they would not listen and by then it was too late We put roses in gun barrels and wore them in our hair We rekindled flames of hope from the ashes of despair We tried to ban the bomb and spurned the nuclear threat We strived to change a world that did not seem to care We sang Dylan’s songs and played the Grateful Dead And the Politics of Ecstasy were tripping in our head We presented flower power and we advocated peace But the killing fields of Vietnam were still running red We scorned the politicians, safe in their ivory towers Demanded economic sanctions for the nuclear powers But when it was all over, we had nothing left to show Except for our memories.....and a trail of dead flowers