We lived up here in Cambridge And browsed in the hippest newsstands The we started our own newspaper Gave the truth about Uncle Sam We loved to be so radical But like a ragged love affair Some became disenchanted And some of us just got scared
Now are you playing possum Keeping a low profile Are you playing possum for a while
then you moved to the country Bought a farm and tilled the land Then you took your books to India And got hooked on a holy man But the wells they do run dry And the speeches turn to words And the woods are full of tigers And freedom`s for the birds
Now you run a bookstore And you`ve taken on a wife You wear patches on your elbows And you live an easy life But are you finally satisfied Is it what you were lookin` for Or does it sneak up on you that there might be something more
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