Reproduction by those who do not know,
how to advance and how to grow.
They cannot teach, they cannot show,
misleading their brood into this cryptic abode.
On our own, in a sense, but we must give dues where it is owed.
Experience is our teacher, grasping what we can until we fold.
Holden, ol’ Holden, you and I are the same.
The only thing to differ, is this God-forsaken name.
I too am confused, angry and bitter. Not knowing where I belong…
it’s a scary thought, I jitter and often sing your song.
When a body meet a body… no!, catch a body comin’ through the rye.
Missing the innocence, the lack of stress, never wanting to die.
What do you know Holden? Anything that I don’t?
You’ve went through what I have, and have gone where I have gone.
Tell me, are you still alive? Have you found what you were searching for?
I’m 28 now, and I sure haven’t. Man, I sure haven’t. Not now, nor before.
I often ask these phonies, “What do you know?” in an attempt to learn.
But I don’t learn anything! More confusion, sadness and depression. I want to watch it all burn.
It’s incredibly sad, these days, how our generation is falling apart.
I often wished I was born in the 30’s, but I don’t think that’s where I should start.
Maybe at the dawn of civilization, where I could study the most simplistic arts.
When a body catch a body coming through the rye, they only hear their hearts.