Slipping slowly out of seclusion and
dripping into a surreal illusion,
I lose my mind inside my soul again.
Lost in this happy hallucination
thoughts become dreams of my fascination.
Dancing babies on top of elephants,
prancing old men in purple underpants,
bouncing bimbo beauties with breast implants.
Glistening gravy on mashed potatoes,
Toejam and Earl throwing red tomatoes,
Mahatma Gandhi wasted off Cuervo.
When I finally come down I will see
that nothing is what it appears to be.
But all is groovy now, definitely.

09/05/2005

Posted on 09/05/2005
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