Word Stick.
There's something inside that maybe shouldn't be,
a little piece of you, you left inside of me.
Attraction of us to a thing called a couch,
blow our minds then reach for your pouch,
roll one up and smoke it down,
we were in heaven till we got into this town.
I roll around looking for you, but you dive into a shadow
and split yourself in two.
Where's the drum, where's the drum,
I said I think I know where you thought I was coming from.
Run away, run away,
I think I thought you knew what I'd say
Echo, Echo, goes my voice,
it sounds so warped, but that's by choice.
They yell at you till they see you cry,
hand fulla pills, your feeble reply.
Dangle, dangle, goes the rope,
lose your balance, begin to choke.
Where's the drum, where's the drum,
I said I think I know where you thought I was coming from.
Do you whine, do you scream,
do you think when you dream?
Hold my hand, make the bed,
be a pillow to make me red.
There's something inside that maybe shouldn't be,
a little piece of me that set you free.
Roll away, roll away,
we'll be in tomorrow by the end of today,
I think I thought you knew what I'd say.