Sun is shining, I can only imagine clouds in the sky
And the beams cry loud in my eyes
And I’m fried as I lay me down I am beamed

Rain left a caustic shroud on my skin
Drained all the healthy clouds off the wind
Stains on my cheeks in my head took my long hair
Snakes bit my feet, ate my toes

Snow left a carpet, cold on my knees
Blew all the ‘mid June heat’ off the seas
Clouds grew a shade, a mushroom shape on the ceiling
Flies rub your hands, it’s all yours

I have got one finger left
I saved it for my ‘ray gun trigger’
All the toes I lost I did preserve in piles
They’re gettin’ bigger


Flies rub your hands it’s all yours
Have your dance
Plastic seasons are here
So please, have a little toast to me
Go and get pissed on me!…

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