He springs from Aberdeen with a hole in his head
Mud honeys fly across his busy street
As he finds his own way to his rock n’ roll dreams
Strangers were only blank faces
Wearing their crooked smiles
Their guts feeling up on his nerves
He turns away to slash the dubious strings instead
And Tracy too kind offered him a ride
Down to Olympia where people were like rainbows
Too colorful to his two eyes
But he liked it that way
And slashed his six strings again
He taped his musings and stayed inside for a while
Taped his hundred linens to the ceiling
To catch the eager flies and so Tracy too kind
I guess she really didn’t mind
He’s her pretty poet
Strumming her busy strings inside
Later this alien monk moved up to the city
He scratched the songs in his head not wanting
To be wanted and fight the corporate machines
From under the ground he was seen
By starred white striped people
He walked his way up to the scene
But the pain from his burning pit he tried to hide
With the sweet painkillers he sought to smile
For the tours and for Love and his little green bean
Black turned to grey as things went easy
But what he loved before
He loves ‘til now without the light
Maybe even before that nevermind came out
Some time later the boy from Aberdeen
Blew up a hole right through his head
He found no more passion
Nor mud honeys for that matter