Preacherman

Music you claim as your religion
You devote your time, your life to music,
to pursuing the passion, the energy, the joie de vivre
So much swirling around you
Sounds, eyes, flesh, glances,
talk dripping viscously sweet
The whirlwind of here, there, them -
all those places and faces blurring into all of a sudden a year of your life
Memory snapshots, small doses of the reality of other landscapes thrust upon you
You must be charming and quick-witted, smooth talking and clear headed
as to continue this give and take existence
To perpetuate this Dionysian cathartic choir of cacophony created by you and your clergymen who preach to the raucous, imbibing masses -
looking for fun for a fight for a fuck for a reason to go on beyond this rat race
And you
and your circus of freaks traipsing around, gypsy-like, observing and participating in the general chaotic frenzy of booze, seduction, interstate and interworld interactions
Shrewd businessmen grown out of these relations
amidst that glossy charismatic veneer shining out "we gotta keep the show going on"
And they eat it up
And power, and notoriety gained
the frenetic disjointed life
the scattered connections
broken hearts
devoted to these twentyfirst century bohemians, musical gypsies
defying the status quo
preaching their blues