The Walrus Was Dead

It was Monday night
I was 16-years-old
Listened to Pepper and Abbey Road
Caught a glimpse of the game
And fell off to sleep
To the sound of the FM beat

Awoke around 2 a.m.
Or maybe it was 3
Didn't believe the news coming at me
Reporting from New York City
John's blood on the street
I thought it was a Python parody

But oh no, no 
He had to go

I heard the pain in his voice
Heard the screams in my head
Didn't want to believe that John Lennon was dead
He influenced my life
Although we never met
I guess what we give out we eventually get

Oh no
He had to go

The soul is eternal
But the body must die
But still when he leaves us
We can't help but cry

I want you to listen
Its not going to last
The present we're in
Is becoming the past

It was the end of an era
The end of a dream
Yet another clue
It comes apart at the seams

It's been 29 years
Can't get it out of my head
The day that they told me
The walrus was dead

That Fateful Day

Walking gingerly on the semi-frozen tundra
Where I use to slide with glee as a youth
Trying to figure out a frustrating cundundrum 
Been whiling away my years with this excuse

Unraveling the skin of this poor white birch tree
Catching an unfortunate fish by the eye
Gradually all those deeds come ricocheting back to me
Won't raise my fist to the heavens and ask why

Walking on the hot sands of old Death Valley
Saw one hundred sneakers hanging from a leafless tree
Just then a mirage appeared of a young Bobby Dinero
His psycho eyes said "Are you looking at me?"

Dreamed I was five and my brother checked his wrist watch
Looked at me gravely and said "It's about that time."
The front door slowly opened and revealed a black haired witch
I tried to crawl away but she stole my body and mind

I've been trapped ever since in a dark tabernacle
That keeps changing form when I think it's finally solved
I've been lamenting my fate and labeling it a debacle
But within myself I've yet to let it resolve

Memories flood in of all the good times and bad times
But I guess it's mostly how you look at it
This misty path filled with the outstretched hands of the desperate
Who I can't ignore even when I think I've made it all fit

I was driving down Highway 101 to my next big destination
When I saw sad caged eyes being carried far away
No one cared to stop the most heinous crime of the century
I think I lost my enjoying spirit on that fateful day