Break On Through

Changes are a’comin’

and I fear my ticket has long since expired

Bought my ticket many a moon shine ago

Found it crumpled in the sock drawer

Ripped, crinkled, sticky with a substance I do not recognize

Redeemable At Anytime barely legible across the top

Common sense dictates that once the ticket is

bought you must take the ride

I fear an indeterminate statute of limitations had

been set it place, my own limitations

Permission Granted and Accepted without

reading the fine text

Changes are a’comin

I sense it’s drawing nearer to my stop

I fear my ticket will be rejected

& loathe the ramifications

But I am not discouraged

For I know I must walk through the station gate

or drown in my own shit

And pretend I don’t know that the changes

aren’t a’comin’again

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?

When an artist feels as though they’ve run out of new ways to express ideas

Is that artist on the brink of realizing they’re no artist or is it the burgeoning of a new era?