Tripping on Daisy
Tripping on Daisy
Riding on the Elastic Firecracker bus
I am taking the magical mystery tour
of the nineties.
Come on along, hop on aboard,
see what the noise is all about.
Cut your strings, free your inside out,
revel in the revelations
of the Tripping Daisy.
The perennial high hides in my mind;
to the cat eye vision of my soul
everything is known nothing is told
until the time is ripe,
nothing is old until it dies
like the withered old nose
of the cranky old fart who can’t
smell the Tripping Daisy.
I am free to take the ride
I am free to catch the high
from a scent that carries in the wind
that is released like the colors
of the gods from the Raindrops.
No more am I bound with your Noose
around my soul.
I Trip Along and Step Behind
the Piranahs that would Prick my RocketPop High
I Got a Girl with Motivation
who wears the Same Dress New Day Bang!
I smell the daisies in my head
that grow so precariously on the edge
of a new fertile mind ringed in
clover and so much older than those
who would simply enjoy the ride.
Come on along, hop on aboard,
step up and inside, take a seat in your mind
for a ride on the Tripping Daisy.
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