I'm stoned just like Jelly Roll
I'll fix your make-up and your soul
They're running trails down your face
like oxy and cocaine down a tinfoil slip and slide
I've seen you this way before
Who really cares if things ain't what they seem?
Who really cares about your world on a string?
Who really cares about gods, men or machines?
Just stay high, and it feels like a dream.
You're an old head, I'm a paint-box lunatic
tipping shine from my left wrist
That's bruised the way that Brooklyn's shaped
The way that madness changes taste
wherever you drag your feet
I've seen you this way before
Who really cares if things ain't what they seem?
Who really cares about your world on a string?
Who really cares about gods, men or machines?
Just stay high, and it feels like a dream.
The days and the nights of the world, they get quiet
and I can't hear a thing through the girls
dripping mouths full of smoke
and the soft boiling ash of the skin
makes the glass of my eyes shake
like merry-go-rounds in 1906.
The ins and the outs of the truth they don't matter
when you can't tell if god's really there with your hands
or your mouth
And the sky pokes our ribs and we turn into wind
Carrying love on our backs you've gotta be strange just to get in.