yup, u got ur snakes, skulls, ladies dancing around in their underwear, and guys on fire without exploding. i saw a pal of mine once, a tree climber, have flames shoot up his pants and onto his back, cuz the poor fellow was a good guy, but a nut. he did that move with a lighter and, umm, his expelled gas, and being a tree guy, of course his clothes were full of bar oil, and the like - poof! he was fine. rolled around on the ground, laughing the whole time. yup, not a bad person, but they did find him dead in the New Haven train station, o'd. now, he had demons, and was always the first one to talk aboot seeing big foot, or puff the magic dragon. a steady diet of heroin, meth, and whatever is in your bathroom cabinet can do that to ya. the six pack breakfasts didn't help either.
it's just the beasts below your bed,
in your closets, in your head!
remember to always sleep with one eye open,
and grip your pillow tight.
new lyrics:
exit logic,
enter magic.
off to looney, looney land.