Post by Thee Independent on Aug 3, 2005 17:06:30 GMT -5
I know you guys can't see it, but I found the perfect song for Samuel's current situation. It's by the Kids In the Hall.
I did all my acid in grade 8 /
That was the old days when acid had names /
Flavors as it were /
Windowpane, orange sunshine /
But then things shifted /
Acid stopped having names /
And chips became flavored /
That's progress? /
I can remember a time when you could get orange sunshine, windowpane, or purple microdot /
But the only chips you could get were plain /
or in some stores /
Rippled.
Cut to the chase /
I did all my acid in grade 8 /
I gobbled it right quick
/ I couldn't get enough of it
/ I did all my southern comfort in grade 9
/ One bottle / Ooo, what a night
/ This is how Janis died?
/ What a sickly way to go
/ And kinda sweet, too, ya know?
Cut to the chase /
I did all my acid in grade 8
/ I did all my hash in grade 7 /
Thought I was gonna say 10 didn't 'ya? Uh uh
/ The thing I hate about hash /
Apart from the revolting taste /
Was the way it made your eyes stare inside your tiny little body /
Just sittin' there listenin' to Uriah Heep /
A little of that goes a long way /
Same as acid I guess you could say.
Cut to the chase / I did all my acid in grade 8 /
It mighta got low for me /
But I never did eat no vegetarian chili /
It mighta got low for me /
But I never did consume the Eastern philosophies /
Which I used to think, you know, was Eastern Canada /
Fisherman's philosophies /
As in, "Ah, you'll see."
Cut to the chase
/ I loved all my love in High School
/ I gave all my love to those three separate, cruel, cool queens
/ Shelly Warwick
/ Susan Moriarty
/ Tammy Gorgenchuck
/ And now I walk around in a hashless, acidless, un-southern comfortable haze
/ And as I do
/ I think about my income tax
/ Hmmmm...
I did all my acid in grade 8 /
That was the old days when acid had names /
Flavors as it were /
Windowpane, orange sunshine /
But then things shifted /
Acid stopped having names /
And chips became flavored /
That's progress? /
I can remember a time when you could get orange sunshine, windowpane, or purple microdot /
But the only chips you could get were plain /
or in some stores /
Rippled.
Cut to the chase /
I did all my acid in grade 8 /
I gobbled it right quick
/ I couldn't get enough of it
/ I did all my southern comfort in grade 9
/ One bottle / Ooo, what a night
/ This is how Janis died?
/ What a sickly way to go
/ And kinda sweet, too, ya know?
Cut to the chase /
I did all my acid in grade 8
/ I did all my hash in grade 7 /
Thought I was gonna say 10 didn't 'ya? Uh uh
/ The thing I hate about hash /
Apart from the revolting taste /
Was the way it made your eyes stare inside your tiny little body /
Just sittin' there listenin' to Uriah Heep /
A little of that goes a long way /
Same as acid I guess you could say.
Cut to the chase / I did all my acid in grade 8 /
It mighta got low for me /
But I never did eat no vegetarian chili /
It mighta got low for me /
But I never did consume the Eastern philosophies /
Which I used to think, you know, was Eastern Canada /
Fisherman's philosophies /
As in, "Ah, you'll see."
Cut to the chase
/ I loved all my love in High School
/ I gave all my love to those three separate, cruel, cool queens
/ Shelly Warwick
/ Susan Moriarty
/ Tammy Gorgenchuck
/ And now I walk around in a hashless, acidless, un-southern comfortable haze
/ And as I do
/ I think about my income tax
/ Hmmmm...