I'm an escapist theory
The part where 5+1=30
You're not my G-d anymore
You're no longer sought after anymore

I want to lay in the grass
And let the sun shine warm upon my face
Never to worry about loss of sense of grace

Mr. Charles can take the heroine
I'm partial to psychocylibin

Listen to the birds sing
In perfect random order ever chiming
Listen to teh birds sing
In perfect melodious chorus ever flying