| Well I’ve been sitting in the back seat of this car for half an hour
|
| And I’m wondering if any of this is real
|
| Trouble is I ate a pound of psychedelic mushrooms,
|
| And now I’m trying to decide if I should feel
|
| Weird about the fact that both my friends who went and drove me
|
| To the Burger King can tell that I’m fucked up?
|
| Because their alligator faces leering at me from the front seat
|
| Have that look of frightened deer-in-headlights locked
|
| Hissing «Calm down that bitter taste’s the drug
|
| And no you won’t drown on spit. |
| So cool it, swallow,
|
| We’ll be downtown now in just a couple minutes
|
| We don’t have to talk until you’re fine»
|
| So now I’m sitting on the curb, amazed by traffic
|
| All the cars have rockets bolted to their roofs and reptile men driving
|
| Wonder if the lights that spin atop these ambulances always looked as cool as
|
| they have been?
|
| And no one can tell me «Calm down»
|
| That bitter taste’s their stares
|
| And no, you won’t drown on spit
|
| So cool it, swallow, take a breath, sit tight for just a single minute
|
| We can talk again when they get lost
|
| Then we’ll sail as high as we wanna go
|
| None of you can tell us no
|
| Or tell us that we’ll fail
|
| Cause we’re too far gone to care
|
| And time goes way too slow
|
| Let’s pick up the pace and go
|
| Double-time this beat and wail
|
| No one rests until we’re there
|
| Well I guess we should worry a bit
|
| Cause they’ll lock us up if we can’t learn to cool it
|
| We’re having a party instead
|
| Who cares if it’s only inside of our heads?
|
| We’ve got mutants, and angels, and demons, and rockets, and killers
|
| Obnoxious? |
| Fuck you man, I’ve got this
|
| Let’s stay on this trip, tell the world it don’t know anything
|
| Glad you’re here to hang out
|
| So we’ll sail as high as we wanna go
|
| None of you can tell us no
|
| Or tell us that we’ll fail
|
| Cause we’re too far gone to care
|
| And time moves way too slow
|
| Let’s pick up the pace and go
|
| Double-time this beat and wail
|
| No one rests until we’re there
|
| In a place we won’t have to care
|
| About what? |
| We don’t know in a world that tells you go
|
| So have a pill, pull up a chair |