a variant of mescaline

Singer:taxpayers, the

what a face

lips on fire

contusions at its throat

what a man spitting out words in a venomous tone

stick him in an unmarked holding tank

pay the rail fare

take the subway home

what a look

leather in drag

anachronistic common-minded punk

belonging to a place that existed once but ceases to exist here anymore

stick him in a library with books pressin up against his skin

pay the rail fare

take the subway home

we were on a variant of mescaline

runnin down the highway

hellhounds on our tails

explosions

confusion

cops in passing cop cars

run him up without bail

you will not become anybody else

you will arise

you will