Come sit with me dear
and watch the sun set over the horizon.
Dark clouds looming,
clashing with the occasional light streaming through.
life’s bogged down in a swamp,
and we are stuck.
Forever we will sit here
watching the same sun rise and fall,
and resign ourselves to this fate we must.
look over there,
Whiskey, mystiques and men
o’er the strawberry fields they sit
listening to roadhouse blues
and making themselves comfortably numb.
Today is their black sabbath,
recognized and celebrated by eating red hot chilli peppers.
Not a care in the world,
to each his sun
and a different one everyday.
Neither rise nor fall they see,
only sunshine in different hues.
On top of the world they are,
simply blowing in the wind.
Everyday their black sabbath,
to the world’s end they drink.
Come lets go join them my dear,
who is to cross these strawberry fields?
I am too tired.
So let us sit here again
and just watch the merrymakers feast.