Hey Jack Kerouac, I think of your mother
And the tears she cried, they were cried for none other
Than her little boy lost in our little world that hated
And they dared to drag him down.
Her little boy courageous
Who chose his words from mouths of
Babes got lost in the wood.
The hip flask slinging madman, steaming cafe flirts,
They all spoke through you.

Hey Jack, now for the tricky part,
When you were the brightest star
Who were the shadows?
Of the San Francisco beat boys you were the favorite.
Now they sit and rattle their bones
And think of their bloodstone days.
You chose your words from mouths of
Babes got lost in the wood.
The hip flask slinging madman, steaming cafe flirts,
In Chinatown howling at night.

Allen baby, why so jaded?
Have the boys all grown up and their beauty faded?
Billy, what a saint they've made you,
You're just like Mary down in Mexico on All Souls Day.

Chose his words from mouths of
Babes got lost in the wood.
The cool junk booting madmen,
All those street minded girls
In Harlem howling at night.

What a tear stained shock of the world,
Oh, you've gone away without saying,
Saying goodbye.

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