Mom and Dad, I'm feelin' bad, I could use a pick-me-up
Sneak around your bed, why am I so bad, I just need that nicotine lung
Awaken in some foreign land
One built not of earthly tree or sand
More like it's just made of fleece and ash
Concocted only of things in the dreams I shed
So one foot in and one foot out
Trudge onward assailing the senses
And all alone, about
I need somewhere to be now
By lane or lot or lay of land, I'll travel it
My paper tiger, she is happenin'
By way of blood, I let the lust keep me movin'
Ammonia, acetone, and arsenic
Thus where I left, failin' common sense
As a stout, stagnant silhouette seems to so surface
And in his hand, a potion rest
Giving way only to it's effervescence
I set the glass upon my lips
Tilt back my head and then steadily swallowed it
Blowin' raspberries while the rats buried my tongue
My paper tiger's in my lungs
Abseiling, sodden with all the slime and pitch in your idiom
Through torpor I'm trippin' out on this concoction
I came and went, I smelled the scents, I rustled 'round a bit
I drank the potion, Ate the dirt, and fell limp