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"Garden Of Simple"

Some crazy fucker carved a sculpture out of butter and propped, it up in the middle of the bonanza breakfast bar.  And I am stuffing toast and sausage into my pockets under a sign that says, "Grand Opening", while my dog is waiting in the car.

I wake up, I check out, I fill the tank and wash the windshield clean and then I'm back out on the highway and  *BANG* that's when I remember my dream. 

We were standing in the garden, and I had a machine that made silence.  It just sucked up the whole opinionated din.  And there were no people on the payroll, and no monkeys on our backs.  And I said baby show me what you look like without skin. 

Silence chases money, and money chases its tail.  The best minds of my generation can't make bail.  The bacteria are coming to take us down, that's my prediction it's the answer to this culture of the quick fix prescription. 

In the garden of simple, where all of us are nameless, you were never anything but beautiful to me.  And you know that never really owned you.  You just carried them around you and then one day you put 'em down and found your hands were free. 

So now it's early in the morning, at the longitude of Memphis and the sun is setting sweetly on Hong Kong.  The big plan is just to keep spinning, cause the big bang is only just beginning and sometimes it's all we can do just to hang on.  And what I mean to say is "Muah!" which means I'm thinking of ya, which means I've been thinking of you all along.