You walk around for days
Deep inside your haze
You catch an off off broadway play
A matinee
You lick the sugar for the cane
Kiss the hippie for his face
Feel the breeze rush through your nose
And right into your heart
Lost my jacket, January
Hold on to the cold, and let it ride
If you’re blood’s not up then you aint dancin
Standing only works when you’re in line
Stop to ice my shoe
With glue
The string snapped long ago
With the radio
Where I listen to the sound of a million people
Swinging to the beat of their own egos
Sticking with the plan that they learned in the steeple
Where god is good and sin is evil
Clap your hands clap your hands clap your hands clap your
Grab the van
Trust your man
There’s a plan, there’s a plan, there’s a plan…