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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. |
