Nothing disappointed me in music this year more than the claim or title that somehow Kayne West was the new Dylan. I needed to vent on this one.

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It’s all about the hoes and the clothes

Songs about what others drove

Sipping crystal and shitting gold

That is what the new preacher told

My generation defined by such vanity

This new rhyme and rhythm

Isn’t what it used to be

Everyone singing about the “me”

How to satisfy oneself

Whether it be blatant

Or stealth

If Kayne is the new Dylan

Rolling up in a Bentley of Crimson

I will disown my own soul

If this is the price that must be tolled

For such vanity and glutton cannot be forgiven

Every single talent that is given

Should be taken away

Rather than wasted

Dylan sang for a generation

Calling awareness and action

Now all I hear is bullshit

Shooting gun

Pleasure the only “one”

To the ultimate satisfaction

I have no time for this carnival of waste

This recycled culture

Of copy and paste

I have no allegiance to this self-serving leader

Kayne no Jesus

And me no Peter

He defines no time

He is prolific poet

Not a single humble feature

Pathetic

It is to waste with such vigor

With chains of gold

Top down in the middle of winter

My frustration with my own generation

Giving golden crowns to those

With self views of inflation

I will not adhere to any of your calls

Forget your pitiful attempts to write your name

On history’s walls

I am not your follower and others say too

What you say does not reflect

In the things you do

No wishes for a brighter future

All the brightness taken

With your own scalpel and suture

So I willfully deny you of this title

Makes me sick if I just stayed idle

Kayne is no Dylan

That I know today

I will not change anything with words

But I said

What I needed to say