| Alright then, picture this if you will:
|
| 10 to 2 AM, X, Yogi DMT, and a box of Krispy Kremes, in my "need to know" pose, just outside of Area 51.
|
| Contemplating the whole "chosen people" thing with just a flaming stealth banana split the sky like one would hope but never really expect to see in a place like this.
|
| Cutting right angle donuts on a dime and stopping right at my Birkenstocks, and me yelping...
|
| Holy fucking shit!
|
| Then the X-Files being, looking like some kind of blue-green Jackie Chan with Isabella Rossellini lips and breath that reeked of vanilla Chig Champa,
|
| Did a slow-mo Matrix descent out of the butt end of the banana vessel and hovered above my bug-eyes, my gaping jaw, and my sweaty L. Ron Hubbard upper lip and all I could think was: "I hope Uncle Martin here |
| doesn't notice that I pissed my fuckin' pants."
|
| So light in his way,
|
| Like an apparition,
|
| He had me crying out,
|
| "Fuck me.
|
| It's gotta be
|
| Deadhead Chemistry.
|
| The blotter got right on top of me.
|
| Got me seein' E-motherfuckin'-T!"
|
| And after calming me down with some orange slices and some fetal spooning, E.T. |
| revealed to me his singular purpose.
|
| He said, "You are the Chosen One, the One who will deliver the message. A message of hope for those who choose to hear it and a warning for those who do not."
|
| Me. |
| The Chosen One?
|
| They chose me!
|
| And I didn't even graduate from fuckin' high school.
|
| You'd better...
|
| You'd better...
|
| You'd better...
|
| You'd better listen
|
| Then he looked right through me
|
| With somniferous almond eyes.
|
| Don't even know what that means
|
| Must remember to write it down.
|
| This is so real.
|
| Like the time Dave floated away.
|
| See my heart is pounding,
|
| 'Cause this shit never happens to me.
|
| Can't breathe, right now!
|
| It was so real.
|
| Like I woke up in Wonderland.
|
| All sort of terrifying.
|
| I don't wanna be all alone when I tell this story.
|
| And can anyone tell me why
|
| You all sound like Peanuts parents
|
| Will I ever be coming down?
|
| This is so real.
|
| Finally it's my lucky day.
|
| See my heart is racing,
|
| 'Cause this shit never happens to me.
|
| Can't breathe, right now!
|
| You believe me, don't you?
|
| Please believe what I just said, see the Dead ain't touring.
|
| And this wasn't all in my head.
|
| See they took me by the hand and invited me right in,
|
| Then they showed me something.
|
| I don't even know where to begin.
|
| Strapped down my bed. |
| Feet cold and eyes red.
|
| I'm out my head. |
| Am I alive, am I dead?
|
| Can't remember what they said.
|
| God damn. |
| Shit the bed!
|
| High... I I I I I... high... I I I I I
|
| High
|
| Overwhelmed as one would be, placed in my position.
|
| Such a heavy burden now to be the one.
|
| Born to bear and bring to all the details of our ending
|
| To write it down for all the world to see.
|
| But I forgot my pen,
|
| Shit the bed again,
|
| Typical.
|
| Strapped down my bed.
|
| Feet cold and eyes red.
|
| I'm out my head.
|
| Am I alive, am I dead?
|
| Sunkist and Sudafed,
|
| Gyroscopes and infrared.
|
| Won't help, brain dead.
|
| Can't remember what they said.
|
| God damn. |
| Shit the bed!
|
| I can't remember what they said to me.
|
| Can't remember what they said to make me out to be a hero!
|
| Can't remember what they said.
|
| Bob help me.
|
| Can't remember what they said.
|
| Don't know.
|
| Won't know.
|
| God damn. |
| Shit the bed! |