Babies cry
when the bottle runs dry
We used to wake up late
and stay out all night
when we were young
it was all in good fun
until things turned ugly
now you're doing hard time
in the state penitentiary
and we're lucky to be alive
This straight jacket doesn't fit
and the sanitarium walls are closing in
I hear them whispering my name
but it doesn't sound the same
These voices are alive
inviting evil into my mind
and they keep telling me to do things
and they put vicious ideas in my head
and then I wind up back in solitary confinement
drawing pictures on the walls of the cave
They keep giving me these pills
but they don't seem to be working
so I swallow the whole bottle
it winds up turning me back around
around back me turning up winds it
Twisted cactus needles
wandering through the dawn
without any clear direction
in a wonderland of violent visions
and creative fury suffering on fire
buried in the tide on the city streets
The truth in salvation exists
but you have to walk
through the fires of Hell
in order to find it
then it turns out to be lies
so now what do I do
Sanity is overrated
in a rational equation
the answers are obvious
but the action is equal
Syd Barrett tried to help me recover
but the grapes were too sour
and we found out at the end
that nothing remains different fornever
Confused on the brink of collapse
we grow terrifyingly strange
while in the presence of devils and demons
who killed all the angels with a sharp ax attack
Creeping around within ominous oddities
between unsettling modulations dissolved
by the fringes of civilization living in chaos
on the outskirts of insanity
We find ourselves drowning
in the deadly sins that repeat themselves
mysterious sea serpents are eating my brains
but these thoughts are so beautiful
After I escaped from the asylum
the shadows started strangling my thoughts
so I medicated myself with whiskey
drinking two bottles a day
but the creatures only grew
stronger and angrier
Now the bottle is empty
