in the early morning,
barely rolled outta bed
and im already stoned.
there are silvery phantoms
with their hands all pocketed
bundled up in coats
so I step out onto my ten inch balcony
to feel the cold
and i pick up the appropriate jacket
gather my things and go,
and suddenly I’m on the train,
the purple people eaters are going insane
they cant stop laughing at an advertisement
on the ceiling,
on Dr. Zizmor’s face, theres a strategically placed penis
and I laugh too,
at least we all still have feeling
O!
my mind drifts away as I try to conjure up a face
that i had dwelled upon
it comes to me in fragments
but it’s form evades me
like a dream from the night before
and then I get into my classic routine
of staring into space
(it was a pretty place x3)
and now I can call your face to mind with ease,
but I’m stuck on other things,
do i have enough evil inside me to take what i want?
does she have enough evil inside her to keep me
wanting her for long?
and suddenly I’m at eighth avenue,
that ain’t where I was headed to,
so I sit around and write this song
it’ll hold off boredom for long enough,
can’t wait to go home to my ten inch balcony
