True Artistic Expression At it's Finest

shooting blanks

smoking blunts

eyes, face & hands

when will we understand

you can't keep sticking it to the man

fan the flames of sin

where do I even begin again

hopping, rocking no stopping

got clowns to the left of me jokers to the right

playing with the wish bone on the telephone

not sense the days of Jessie James

a vast frontier filled with games

Manson sand the dope show heading off to Buffalo

sitting in the back seat with a two bit whore

screaming out loud for more, more, more

got me on a zip line heading to the sun

shattered glass no one in this life gets a free pass

there's no better high then the Lord up above

cruising down the highway as swift as a dove

there are lines being drawn in the sand

when will we ever live to understand

chase dreams from your hair my pretty one

don't stop, don't stop make ginger pop

homeboy you think a lot

many heads getting burned by the midnight oil

taking too long for the water to boil

crying until our heart seems to scream

Summer times here in the mood for some ice cream

lazy days getting lost in a purple haze

falling a part at the seams

evil schemes

they had me down but I'm still on top

go run to your friends cause they just called a cop

spinning like a top