Joystick Jailbirdby John "Stoney" Cannon
The gaze of my youth moves like one long joyride
With clay wheel screams and banana seat dreams
Where cheeks and warm breezes collide
Days of Saturday matinees and transistor radios
Parties in carports and after school sports
Long before the zombie army of guitar heroes
Adolescence rarely fell prey to pong
Beating on a different drum, before the kids turned numb
Slaves to joysticks gone wrong
Why fault Donkey Kong, or even Rubik’s Cube
Even the MTV generation never lacked the span of attention
To pry glazed over eyes from the hypnotic tube
Rebel against the evil controllers, rise up against video evil
Pedal hard against the wind like you’re Evel Knievel
