What did not kill us last night
Made us stronger
anyways we now live longer
If but for a day

Some go to mosques
Some seek solace in the church
I go to a pub or cafe
To each his own poison

Waiting for the moment
One more kick
One more throb of feeling
To remind us

We are not angels
Not god and not demons
and not robots
Though we act like each of them

Depending on how much zing
Our brain has at the moment
While we pretend outwards
We are not crazy just eccentric

Hippies born in the age
of robots have to be patient
Who needs the world
and its long nose anyways

We will just take its money
and go drink it up
in readily available coffee or hashish or grass
carefully supplied alcohol or pretty faces