MY PSYCHEDELIC DREAMS

i don't regret my schemes,
for psychedelic dreams.
i'd often take a hit,
and ride my pogo-stick.
off to other lands,
my head like rubber bands,
known only to the hip.

these beatniks were hand-picked,
by God it seems.
for psychedelic dreams.

i blew my synaptic head,
with the STP of "dread".
i thought my life was through,
from the horror that i knew.
but i emerged...
re-born.

i sure was not the same.
i had no freaking name.
my identity was fried.
this cannot be denied.
for with what i had seen,
in my psychedelic dreams...
i must treasure to this day.
for it will not go away.

so sober, now i sleep.
my life almost complete.
a holy prayer i say,
so the monsters go away.
i feel not paranoid,
as i enter the great void,
where images i see...
that cannot frighten me...
NOW...OM...

i've gained my angel wings,
and seen so many things.
death can have its way.
i'll take it any day.
for my psychedelic dreams,
are normal daily things.
they do not frighten me.
for finally...
i see.