Was it the acid sent him round the bend
He saw it all the way down to the end
and saw the beauty inner eye
of telling this becoming lie?
hurtling down the cellular time tunnel
vague remembrance of a harsh k funnel
So on fire to be the chosen
In that crystal valence frozen
turn on turn on turn on turn turn turn
I feel it you’re about to burn
and issue forth a wild decree
not so different from ol’ J.C.
The priesthood and West Point
don’t need much of an excuse to fire up a joint
pass that pass that flaming coal
only thing I can’t give up believing in’s my soul
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