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Two Tone
I was young, once, and knew no bounds
and oft went running with the hounds
chasing heirs, blossoms if not there
plucked, without worry or a care.
Met in rhythm of a 2 tone ska
bewitched by sax and bass guitar;
escaping from my ghost town spell
Mantovani could go to hell!
Rocksteady, reggae, punk, new-wave
freedom, freedom, never be a slave!
Checkerboard shirts with Tonic suits
skinny blue jeans and eight-hole boots.
Mom don’t like multicolored mates
so that’s her problem, them’s her hates
Thatcher’s on her wall, she expounds;
so I went running with the hounds.
Copyright ©
Terry Miller
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