'see, I think drugs have done some *good* things for us, I really do. And if you don't believe drugs have done good things for us, do me a Favor: go home tonight and take all your albums, all your tapes, and all Your cd's and burn em'. cause you konw what? the musicians who've made All that great music that's enhanced your lives throughout the years... Rrrrrrrrrrrrreal fuckin high on drugs.'
--bill hicks 'another dead hero'--
Dreaming of that face again. It's bright and blue and shimmering. Grinning wide And comforting me with it's three warm and wild eyes.
On my back and tumbling Down that hole and back again Rising up And wiping the webs and the dew from my withered eye.
In... out... in... out... in... out...
A child's rhyme stuck in my head. It said that life is but a dream. I've spent so many years in question To find I've known this all along.
'so good to see you. I've missed you so much. So glad it's over. I've missed you so much Came out to watch you play. Why are you running? '
Shroud-ing all the ground around me Is this holy crow above me. Black as holes within a memory And blue as our new second sun. I stick my hand into his shadow To pull the pieces from the sand. Which I attempt to reassemble To see just who I might have been. I do not recognize the vessel, But the eyes seem so familiar. Like phosphorescent desert buttons Singing one familiar song...
'so good to see you. I've missed you so much. So glad it's over. I've missed you so much. Came out to watch you play. Why are you running away? '
Prying open my third eye. So good to see you once again. I thought that you were hiding. And you thought that I had run away. Chasing the tail of dogma. I opened my eye and there we were.
So good to see you once again I thought that you were hiding from me. And you thought that I had run away. Chasing a trail of smoke and reason.
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