Eric's Trip

Hatred

I hate the past

I can't see anything at all, all I see is me

that's clear enough

and that's whats important, to see me

my eyes can focus

my brain is talking

looks pretty good to me

my head's on straight, my girlfriend's beautiful

looks pretty good to me

sometimes I speak

tonight there's nothing to say

sometimes we freak

and laugh all day

hold these pages up to the light

see the jacknife inside of the dream

a railroad runs through the record stores at night

coming in for the deep freeze

Mary: a simple word, are you there in the country?

Yr eyes so full, yr head so tight

can't you hear me?

Remember our talk

that day on the phone?

I was the door, and you were the station

with shattered glass and miles between us

we still flew away in the conversation

my cup is full, and I feel okay

the world is dull, but not today

she think's she's a goddess

she says she talks to the spirits

I wonder if she can talk to herself?

If she can bear to hear it?

this is Eric's trip

we've all come to watch him slip

he's slipping all the way to Texas

can you dig it?

(Eric says "The sky is blue...")

I see with a glass eye

the pavement view

a shadow forming, across the fields rushing

thru me to you

we tore down the world, and put up four walls

I breathe in the myth

I'm over the city, fucking the future

I'm high and inside yr kiss

we can't see clear

but what we see is a alright

we make up what we can't hear

and then we sing all night

scattered pages and shattered lights

a jacknife and a dream

there's something moving over there on the right

like nothing I've never seen