Home of the Stoner


I got her off her innocent face

Tipped her back up and sat her down

Got to keep her wider than awake

Porcelain glorified ecstacy drowned

We went fishing for reality

Dipping in the fashion of the skinny

On a field trip to fatality

Persuit of a liquid filled tinny

Grasping for the fiction

Laughing in line for the punch

Paper plate to feed my addiction

Losing me, using me, call it a hunch

Fuel my lust for illusion

Beckon her track back on side

Daily dosage of sheer confusion

Wide unblinkered vision eyed

I think it's about time I went home

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