Acid Verse
Lis’ning to psychedelic music,
Joss stick sending up a stream,
Lava shadows on the ceiling,
Red wine drifting off to dream.
Don’t need drugs to taste the acid,
Just an over-yellow mind –
It’s gonna be one of those fitful nights
When the gears of my conscious grind.
Too much psychedelia,
It’s not from the drugs, this trance, though –
I swear, just wine, and a lack of coffee,
So why do the colours dance so ?
I guess that I must be dreaming ?
I really hope that I’m dreaming…
Cos if this is really psychotrope
Then I’m trapped inside a kaleidoscope.
I guess there are folks who deal with this ev’ry day –
Does it make me a bad person to say
That I never wanted to end up that way ?
Like this way. Like slipping down the slope.
Lis’ning to psychedelic noodling –
Are they slurred, or only me ?
It sorta sounds like forty-fives
That are played at thirty-three.
Don’t need drugs to hear the acid
Needle jumping, stuck on repeat –
It’s gonna be one of those Mobius nights
When Alice can’t find her feet.
Too much recycled diorama,
But if not drugs, then what have I taken ?
If only I’d swallowed some bloody caffeine
Cos I need to reawaken.
So why am I still here dreaming ?
Or what if I’m not here dreaming ?
It’s not any pills from off the shelf,
But maybe my brain has brewed some itself ?
Maybe it’s cloning its own serotonin all day,
Or morphing endorphins to help it to play.
Or doped-up on dopamine, drooling away ?
Who’s to say ? Is it madness by stealth ?
Lis’ning to psychedelic mumbling,
Are they blurry ? Hard to see…
This cover art is always changing –
Which side’s A and which side’s B ?
Don’t need drugs to see the acid
Sparking somewhere, distant, bleak –
It’s gonna be one of those unplugged nights
When the doors of perception creak.
Too much psyched-out sepia –
I don’t even own a secret stash,
But these uninvited thoughts wanna dance,
Now this party’s about to crash.
Can I still hope I’m nothing but dreaming ?
I gonna need help if I find I’m not dreaming
Cos I just don’t know how I’m gonna survive
If I’m right here awake and I’m streaming this live.
I don’t want to crash, but I don’t want to stay,
So help me to crash to an overcast day –
Cos there’s so many colours, I can’t find my way –
Help me, pray, when the DTs arrive.
Lis’ning to spaced-out psychic music,
Sometimes my mind is not my friend,
Cos psychedelic may sound angelic,
But it’s based on the blues in the end.
Rhyming Couplets 