there are rages that you can’t define
but they are there
there are times when the grey turns black
and at the ceiling you stare
makes you wonder why you don’t care
but what does that do inside your head
does it stain you like i do
as disposable as a free ride
unless they stick like glue
cruisin lofi
one day or another
some stain ‘ll stick to you

there are scissors that ain’t cuttin lines
crooked neither straight
there are needles in all stacks of hay
and there’s no use in getting laid there
and you’ld burn it if you weren’t affraid
but what does that do inside your head
does it stain you like i do ?
do you kick it like a dog
and if you do do you pull the leach
or keep it as a fetish
one way or another
that stain ‘ll color blue

there are stairways climbing up to love
but the railing’s gone
i’m not a cray that feeds on every dove
i just smile when i see’m come
the teddy bear could use a hug
or what would you suggest in such a case
would you try to wash of stains
i know a manhole is bigger than a sink
but out you don’t walk
i’ve seen elephants that weren’t even pink
one way or another
that stain ‘ll wash off to

one way or another
you’ll all be stained too