Atomic Tangerine Dream Machine
Dance right up to the marvelous,
Atomic Tangerine Dream Machine.
All you need to enter is one tiny
fragment of memory from the
psychedelic sixties and the desire
to rewrite history. Let your hair
hang down and trust the magic
machine to edit out the bad trips
and leave you with Lucy in the Sky,
Give you Bobby, Martin, and John,
eloquent and alive, assassins' bullets
vaporized by tangerine magic.
The summer of love at it's innocent
best, the Haight without junkies.
No dead run aways. The war in Viet Nam
resolved through genuine peace talks.
No Weathermen, angel sleeves and the
high of standing arm in arm singing of
a dream, a hammer, a song to sing.
No harm done, no regrets. Just dance right
up to the atomic tangerine dream machine
and sacrifice truth to psychedelic denial.