I was sailing along
on Saturday night beer fuel
singing with the band
til a twelve a.m. last call
I'd put on the rockstar show
swaying with the crowd
in electric smoke and amber showers
yelling in unison and waiting
for the night to fall
we stumbled up to the
top of the tavern
for after hours shots of tequila
meeting up with Chris and Jerry
"there's a party at Anna's place"
they said
so we pulled out and piled in
the party wagon with a bagful
of 40 ouncers to go
as soon as we were there
Chris started fishing for flake
until he found a sap to split
an overpriced 8 ball with us
he chopped out lines
and I snorted sparks
shooting right to my soul
I was on top of the town
the world at my fingers
the night as my mistress
dangling playthings and
dinosaurs that bob their heads in time
to Train In Vain
blitzing the by-lines and not worrying
worlds with withering waterfalls
stumble step in straight lines
rush the rocks together with
no man overboard
no man left behind
on the mainline drag
as you float the sails
and bear down on the white powder winds
with magicians
who pull rabbits
with no ears
out of
baseball caps
until your climb comes crashing
down from the cliffs
in an overhanging undertow
