Once I went for a ride on a really small train.
I was in a tiny train car with a tiny black rock
That I thought maybe was a piece of coal
But as the train went further
And it kept getting hotter I realized the tiny black rock was my soul and that I was going to hell –
News Flash: We already got to hell.
I’m riding on a small black train holding a small black rock.
I think it is a piece of coal and I don’t know where the train is going.
I just hope it’s going past the liquor store, because right now I’m looking like a trampled whore – I hope it’s going past the Shop Rite, because right now we both dark, it’s been a really dark night.
And then I hope it’s going past a black-sand beach, I got a coconut up here, I keep it just out of reach.
I swear, I’m feeling like an open sore.
I’m feeling I’m feeling like a dead-beat-dad, I’m feeling, I’m feeling so bad. I sure hope it’s going past a masquerade, because right now I’m feeling like a passed charade.
I’m feeling, I’m feeling I’m feeling I’m feeling like a bathroom stall.
I’m feeling I’m feeling so small.
I’m feeling so poor and so open and sore
Flamed out and still raging.
Remember this: Get to know your shadow while you still can. Our bodies die, our shadows remain.