Chuck Perrin

Today, (holy shit!) I found myself looking back – to 15 years ago this month. We were all dreading the onslaught of the 21st century, a few short months away. Little did we know what lay in store!

Don’t Look Back (1999)

four feet to the left of my body sits my gray gandhi
he collects the mishaps that hold my life together
and keeps them off of me
sometimes I get the urge to turn and face them
cruise that cul-de-sac
but I hear him whisper buddy rave on
don’t look back

way up in the towers of babel in the cubicles of conformity
so many mumbles are choosed up and used up
nailin jello to a tree
they got a shit load of chaperones
endless egomaniacs
let’s seal all the elevators turn and rave on
don’t look back

in tortured socks and crepe soul shoes
I tiptoe through the gloom
tripping over these half tone dreams
like some tinseltown cartoon
there’s too much clutter in my existence
it’s time to clear a path
and escape into tomorrow
don’t    look    back

way way down in the cool cool grottos
where the ashtrays ache with jazz
the air is thick with smoky memories
from faded grey photographs
but Pops, Prez, Duke, Diz, and Monk remind us
in their vinyl epitaphs
to stay inside the groove, relax, and rave on
don’t look back