Executive dysfunction ’cause my brain go stop
trippin’ on my sandals ’cause my flip don’t flop
The rumble of the river calling order to the jungle
If there’s no more faith, then call Mr. Bungle
I don’t take drugs, just carry them along
in a convenient place tucked into my thong
or under my tongue, so I know they exist
or down the throat so they’re eventually pissed
But this is a salad of only one fruiting body
No mycellium here because that would be naughty
Dragged through the windows of the soul of the eyes
I hope these people won’t see through this disguise
What do I do now that I am doing what they thought I could done?
Fucked up and made it and now I’m the one
Imposter Imposter, put down that computer
step up to the bar for another blue shooter
These yellow jackets sting but they keep us going
the bozos with benzos sleep walk never knowing
but I am at the party where the fun refuses to stop
and I can’t walk away because my flip don’t flop