Rip Van Winkle by Ken McGoogan

RIP VAN WINKLE

Summer 1966, I do remember lighting out upon the road
Hitching out of Montreal, heading west, free, bound for Mexico
Work-boots on, long black hair, two hundred dollars in my jeans
Meant, hey, I did not have a care

Walk into a room, party laughter tinkles
A woman smiles, tells me I’m a latter-day Rip Van Winkle

Got to San Francisco, found myself in the Haight-Ashbury
Who needed Mexico, this I knew was where I had to be
Free love in the grass, free rock-and-roll
I chuckled at a highway sign that warned about freedom’s toll

Step into the night, high above stars twinkle
My oldest friend, he confirms that I’m a latter-day Rip Van Winkle

Fell in with some magic people, older than me but maybe not so very wise
Scaled that psychedelic steeple, revelation lay beyond the acid highs
Eighteen years old, took one too many pills
Yesterday I woke up on the wrong side of the hill

Now where is when, time it cracks and crinkles
A voice within whispers I’m a latter-day Rip Van Winkle

Hey it took a little while for Rip to rise on returning from Dreamland
But he dug out an old guitar and put together a knock-em-dead Rock band
Rip Van Winkle arose, cried, What an episode!
He made his flashbacks sing and took them out on the road

How did I get here? Time’s not flat, it’s crinkled
I am delighted to be nothing but a latter-day Rip Van Winkle