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JOE DOLCE'S 27th ACID TRIP

 

Gather round me, friends, and pretend I'm your T.V.

And I'll tell you 'bout the time I popped that pill called L.S.D.

I was somewhere in Ohio, near some little red-neck town,

When I toasted Timothy Leary, with a Coke, and washed it down.

 

It was an ordinary sunny day, just like any other,

I was walking through the country with my girlfriend and her mother.

My darling smiled politely, then shrunk down like an elf,

And all 'a sudden I noticed I was walkin' next to myself.

 

Both of us started screamin', scared out of our skin,

One of us started runnin' and I know it wasn't him.

I made it to the hilltop and leaned against this Cross,

To catch my breath and assure myself that I was still the boss.

 

I suddenly heard the voice of God and, man, that made me itch,

I took off all my clothes down at the road and tried to hitch.

I got picked up by a family all dressed up for Sunday church,

The mother had eyes like the Virgin Mary, but lips just like a perch.

 

They thought I was Madonna, my long hair made them stop,

But my Charles Manson beard really gave them quite a shock.

I said I must be going, and I crawled out the back door,

And landed in the sewer pipe of the local pizza store.

 

I jumped up and I headed for a Mansion on the Hill,

But the closer I'd approach, the further it'd be still,

'Till I finally reached the front door, to beg some straw to sleep,

But the farmer yelled, 'Get out of here, you hippie, pervert creep!'

 

At least he spoke my language, so when he'd finally gone,

I climbed in through the window, into bed with his boy, John.

I was dozing off when suddenly felt a rifle at my throat,

He tied me to the apple tree with his grandma's jumping rope.

 

The deputy and psychiatrist arrive with time to spare,

And dressed me up in handcuffs and the Sheriff's underwear.

The reception at the jailhouse was like 'This Is Your Life',

They made me pose for photographs with the Sheriff's kids and wife.

 

They said they wanted souvenirs, to prove that I was me,

I asked if I could have one too, they asked for my I.D.

We thanked each other politely, then they threw me behind bars,

They slammed the door, I turned around, and my jaw just fell ajar.

 

It looked like some old prison ship, I said, 'Well, golly gee!'

Five faces in the darkness answered back, 'You talkin' to me?'

An ugly one with a missing tooth and a voice like Tokyo Rose,

Said,' I like long hair, but you better sit down, 'less you want to touch your toes.'

 

I sat right down and proceeded to watch some twins playing poker,

John the Baptist's face had taken the place of the face of the Joker.

I slipped into my cell-bunk, I was trying to keep alert,

Someone said, 'You'll need a blanket,' then he asked me for my shirt.

 

Three days passed, everyday I asked, but no word had arrived,

'Till the sheriff came in, with a Cheshire grin and said, 'We're going for a ride.'

We climbed in his patrol car, from the mirror hung a shrunken head,

He said, 'We'll take the back route, down where the sharks are fed."

 

He asked some twisted questions, just to see if I was crooked,

And put a peanut on the dash, I wasn't proud - I took it.

We drove for hours in circles around a statue of Captain Cook,

I asked him if he had kids, he said he'd take a look.

 

We made it to the Judge's house, who was the perfect host,

He said, 'I know you popped a pill, that's why your brain's like toast.'

"No, your honour," I defended, "It was an electric fence,

I got tangled in the current 'till I lost my common sense."

 

The judge jumped up, he bit his lip, and then he started to swear,

Apparently, it was his turn to wear the Sheriff's underwear.

They finally had to let me go, the facts were circumstantial,

They obviously could see no gain since I was unfinancial.

 

The moral of this story, if there's one that must be said,

L.S.D. will bring out someone else who shares your head,

And when you're screaming at this person, wondering what to do,

Make sure the one that's running up that hill is him, not you.

 

(Prose Account of the Actual Acid Trip - circa 1970)

 

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