There is something in the air
A new generation filled with bandanas, peace, and hair
We sit still as the music fills the room
While the other side of the world feels a boom

Mother and Father are left behind
To my fellow brother they were blind
We were running against the wind
Called ourselves a family although no one is kin

Filled with joy and the beat of the drum
We had help to feel comfortably numb
According to the media that was all we were for
Just teenage angst, no real threat to their war

Finding it unjust we fought back
With flowers and peace that were met with whacks
In the end we all stood hand in hand
In a field filled with love, flowers, and rock bands