in the early morning, barely rolled outta bed and im already stoned. there are silvery phantoms with their hands all pocketed bundled up in coats so I step out onto my ten inch balcony to feel the cold and i pick up the appropriate jacket gather my things and go, and suddenly I’m on the train, the purple people eaters are going insane they cant stop laughing at an advertisement on the ceiling, on Dr. Zizmor’s face, theres a strategically placed penis and I laugh too, at least we all still have feeling O! my mind drifts away as I try to conjure up a face that i had dwelled upon it comes to me in fragments but it’s form evades me like a dream from the night before and then I get into my classic routine of staring into space (it was a pretty place x3) and now I can call your face to mind with ease, but I’m stuck on other things, do i have enough evil inside me to take what i want? does she have enough evil inside her to keep me wanting her for long? and suddenly I’m at eighth avenue, that ain’t where I was headed to, so I sit around and write this song it’ll hold off boredom for long enough, can’t wait to go home to my ten inch balcony