Stuck With A Bill

What I recall of the Sixties is my toys and my terror
Vietnam on the news all the time
Spaceships on the news all the time 
Protests on the news all the time
Drugs on the news all the time
I had a lot of guns to play with

What I recall of the Seventies is my drugs and my terror
Electric guitars in my ears all the time
Blurs and bursts and trails in my eyes all the time
First grasp of the news in poems all the time
First surges and rages of sex all the time
I had a smeared streak of joy to play with

What I recall of the Eighties?  Terrible, terrible
Marriage and working and crazy and drink
I want no Eighties in my head all the time
I want no Ronnie, no Nancy, no guns, no roses
No reason at all to have lived through that
No reason at all to recall

What I recall of the Nineties and since
is the continuing terror of how it all feels like the present
Cannot distinguish much of now from then
It’s a short walk back to Kurt’s wounded head from here
It’s a short walk back to New York’s wounded heart from here
It’s a short walk back to the shock of war and awe from here
I feel like someone stuck me with a bill
Stuck me with a bill for all this time
I keep walking forward and away but
It never disappears