CASSADY

Oh, he died right there on the railroad tracks

As he counted the ties away.

And he barely wrote a book or penned any essays

And his name was Neal Cassady.

He became a literary figure

In the works of others.

He was the Johnny Appleseed of marijuana

And his name was Neal Cassady.

Cassady, Cassady

His first third, what a pity.

Cassady, Cassady

His second third he just had to be free.

Cassady, Cassady

His final third he lived excessively.

Cassady, Cassady

Today your name is legendary.

He was a Sleeping Prophet-rapping brakeman

When the Beat Movement began

To take steam like a locomotive history

And his name was Neal Cassady.

Oh, he talked and talked and intercoursed

Entire nights away.

But you could tell he was thinking

Even when he was quietly Neal Cassady.

Cassady, Cassady

His first third, what a pity.

Cassady, Cassady

His second third he just had to be free.

Cassady, Cassady

His final third he lived excessively.

Cassady, Cassady

Today your name is legendary.

C-A-S-S-A-D-Y

LSD

And why-oh-why

Were XY chromosomes personified

In that over-deified wise guy?

Born in Salt Lake, In Mexico died.

Half the circle to the other side.

He hung on and enjoyed the ride.

And then he let his soul fly.

Tried-and-true if it tweren’t all lies

About C-A-S-S-A-D-Y.

You’re either On the Bus or Off the Bus

But sometimes there’s a Maybe.

I swear a ghost sped past me out of Denver

And it looked like Neal Cassady’s.

Cassady, Cassady

His first third, what a pity.

Cassady, Cassady

His second third he just had to be free.

Cassady, Cassady

His final third he lived excessively.

Cassady, Cassady

Today your name is legendary.

© Gregory Ego