It’s an illegitimate nightmare that scars fringe fears
While we’re toasting appletinis and toting next year
Rainbows run the streets and numbers cause a racket
I’ve got a pocket full of dreams and a packet of dreck

When good neighbors close their gingerbread shingles
The Truth sleeps in the gutter next to Integrity
While we walk the golden brick path back to the brink
The edge of a ellipse that’s gonna plunge us back to drink

There’s sparkles Mr. Mxypllyx, sorry if I got that wrong
I always heard if it’s the same tune, it’s the same song
I’ve got two sticks of incense that stink of the future
And we’ll smell deep before take a plunge into dissent

A field full of weaker-thans and fair-weather-friends
All touting their own horn, waiting for angels  to descend
I’ve got ten greenbacks and two cents burning my brain
Let’s go back the station and catch the next thought train