Captain fantastic, raised and regimented
Hardly a hero,
Just someone his mother might know,
Very clearly a case for corn flakes and classics,
“Two teas both with sugar please.”
In the back of an alley.
While little Dirt Cowboys turned brown in their saddles
Sweet chocolate biscuits,
And red rosy apples in summer.
For its hay make
And “Hey mom, do the papers say anything good.
Are there chances in life for little Dirt Cowboys,
Should I make my way out of my home in the woods?
Brown Dirt Cowboy
Still green and growing.
City slick Captain,
Fantastic the feedback
The honey the hive could be holding.
For there’s weak winged young sparrows
That starve in the winter,
Broken young children
On the wheels of the winners.
And the sixty-eight summer festival wallflowers
Are thinning.
For cheap easy meals
Are hardly a home on the range.
Too hot for the band
With a desperate desire for change.
We’ve thrown in the towel too many times
Out for the count when we’re down
Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy
From the end of the world to your town.
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