| Well I’m flying down desert streets wrapped in mother’s wine and sheets,
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| Asbestos boots on flaming feet dreaming of forbidden treats,
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| When uniforms on nighttime beats ask me where I’m going and what I eat.
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| I answer them with a voice so sweet,
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| I can’t come down till it’s plain to see.
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| I can’t come down I’ve been set free.
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| Who you are and what you don’t make no difference to me.
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| Well someone trying to tell me where it’s at,
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| And how I do this and why I do that,
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| With secret smiles like a Chesire cat,
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| And little wings like a vampire bat,
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| I fly away to my cold water flat and eat my way to a bone of fat,
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| And I say to the man with the funny hat,
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| They say I’ll be good to lose my grip,
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| My hold on reality is starting to slip,
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| To tell me to got off with this trip,
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| The say its like a sinking ship,
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| Life is sweet it’s too warm to sip,
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| And if I drink I’ll chuck and flip, I’ll just say as I take a nip,
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| Oh I dream of cotton seas and granite walls and redwood trees,
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| And ugly eye that only sees endless mirrors and infinite me’s,
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| About the winter’s coming freeze this afterthought I say with ease,
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| To all of you who make your fees |