Where are my starry campfire skies
Replaced by coca-cola lights
Olympians say shut up and buy
A plasma screen is worth the fight
Beast versus beast in a Walmart line
The last elusive hunt for time
Where indeed are my carrier pigeons
This handheld device feels so cold
Every one of these electric widgets
Sends my words in Sans-serif bold
Yet the meaning is lost along the way
The frontier has been uprooted
Where's my covered wagon train
When dirty jeans were suitably suited
No Amber waves on my FaceTime
Just purple mountain grown chi tea
Ninety-nine years cut down in my prime
They can't prescribe a life for me
While I assure my friends I'm fine
I scatter to the wind a tumbleweed
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