So the band broke up and I've got to get back to Kansas City with my bass on my back and my last $210. I'm thumbin' up the road when a guy picks me up in a subcontractor's truck at like 8 in the morning talking breakfast!
I'm starved and he's all "You in a band, bo?" and he fires up a big roach in his ashtray and takes an exit right to fucking I.H.O.P.!
I don't know what Boysenberry is, but you shouldn't put it on your pancakes on a long road trip. This guy took me to within 49 miles of Kansas City, right, but What The FUCK???
If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thru' ...
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