i changed the words to bob dylans song about heroin,, mr tamborine man,
(i fucked it up a bit) ((fuckin wonk!!))
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PX1-Iphv_uY
hey mr frying pan man rack a line for me, im not sleepy and there is no place im going to,,
hey mr frying pan man rack a line for me, in the donky dusty mornin i ll come followin u,
though i no i shouldnt do it ,but can i tick anutha gram? so i forget who i am, so i can barely even stand cos im not sleeping,
my wonkyness amazes me im balanced on my feet, i have sumone to meet, but the late night scally streets unsafe for dreaming,
chorus
now im on a trip upon my magic swirling ship, my hands too numb to grip, i cant speak for shit, i have this thing to say,but it seems now that my vocab has depleated,
im ready to go anywhere if i could only walk, i need to give up trying to talk,my nose is blocked with toxic chalk, i need to 4get about the k untill tommorow,
chorus
im looking rather basic like a one eyed drooling mess, my girlfriends not impressed, cos a limp dicks not the best, i need to work out is it the challenge that im chasing?
from life i skive as i dive down that everchanging hole, so colourful but cold, i was never told, that the substance that im sniffin was addictive,
chorus
i really should be lying here,wallowing in bliss,but need anutha painful piss, should i give that line a miss? but theres that one part of my trip i keep forgetting.
oh how i love to travel to that distant astral plain, an excursion to my brain, but a nightmare to explain, all comes out the same, those cliche k head phrases keep repeating,
invasion of the zombie man, with his polo nose,go slower stripes upon his clothers in the techno smacky mornin he ll come following u!!
