No Title, I Just Wrote What I Felt

I’m sick of needing to choose Between grass stains and sunburns All the kids these days think It’s cool to drink alcohol and sit In the back seat of limousines. My dad always told me when He was young he played with sticks And rocks and partied hard, Drove to Tijuana on the weekends Back when the world was a safer Place, a blanketed bed soaked In warmth, but still cold when that Was needed. I wish we still owned Box TVs and hot wheel cars Not these joke cell phones and Drugs from off the street. I guess I’m tired of watching all my Friends turn purple or green And laying on the bedroom floor Of some fool they’ve never even seen I wish kids these days appreciated Paper and still climbed trees, Let the sun tell them when Bedtime was so they could count Every sheep, sleep Right through their alarm clocks And into the daytime.