I try to talk, but words collide.
   I want to fly, but I can hardly walk.

Backed into a corner.
Smacked to holy tatters.

   I grab for God, but he's out of reach,
   I ride the tide back to the beach.

   I pluck a horn from Satan's head,
   I sit in with The Grateful Dead.

Keith Karloff
© Leather Volcano Music BMI