THE TRIP TO PUNTA CANA

(originally posted way back years ago…)

SUNDAY TO WEDNESDAY…
WELL, AS EXPECTED, THE BEACHES AND THE WATER WERE SPECTAC…OF COURSE THEY WOULD BE…IT WAS THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC…THE CARIBBEAN. BUT ONCE AGAIN, MY VOLUNTARY AND INVOLUNTARY POWERS OF OBSERVATION FORCED ME TO SEE FAR MORE THAN WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN COMFORTABLE. IT’S THE JUXTAPOSITION THAT ALWAYS GETS TO ME THE STRONGEST…THE GAP BETWEEN THE HAVES AND THE HAVE NOTS…IT DOES IT TO ME EVERY TIME. I GREW UP ON LANSDOWNE AVENUE IN THE NINETEEN FIFTIES WITHOUT A DAD, THINKING I WAS “POOR”. BELIEVE ME, NOW I KNOW “POOR”. AT THESE HUGE PRIVATE FUNCTIONS, I USUALLY COME DOWN TO THE STAGE THROUGH THE KITCHEN. THIS WAS NO EXCEPTION, AND WHEN I ARRIVED TO JOIN THE FROGS ON STAGE, THE MAIN COURSE AND DESERT PLATES HAD JUST BEEN CLEARED AND BROUGHT INTO THE HUGE BACK KITCHEN. AND HERE WERE THESE LOVELY PEOPLE, THE NICEST, FRIENDLIEST PEOPLE IN THE WORLD, ALL SHOVELING INSANELY HUGE AMOUNTS OF FOOD THAT HAD NEVER BEEN TOUCHED INTO DOZENS AND DOZENS OF GARBAGE BINS…KIDS, THIS IS NOT RIGHT. I KNOW IT’S AN ANCIENT, OVERLY TOLD STORY, BUT IT’S JUST NOT RIGHT. AND THE DRIVE FROM THE AIRPORT TO THE RESORT WAS ANOTHER EYE OPENER. I’VE TRAVELLED A LOT, PROBABLY MORE THAN MOST PEOPLE, AND I’VE SEEN VARIOUS LEVELS OF POVERTY. BUT THIS WAS PRETTY WELL AS BAD AS I’VE SEEN ANYWHERE. THE ISLAND AROUND ITS EDGES IS DOTTED WITH HUGE RESORTS FOR THE TOURISTAS, SO ALL ALONG THE GORGEOUS BEACHES IT’S RICH RICH RICH…
THEN YOU SEE THE INTERIOR. MY GOODNESS. VERY SOBERING SIGHTS. HOUSES THAT WERE LITERALLY TIN SHACKS, NOTHING MORE. SOME VERY STRANGE, WELL, MAYBE NOT STRANGE, BUT UNUSAL FOR ME, SIGHTS ALONG THE TRIP FROM AIRPORT TO RESORT. MANY, MANY CAR WASHES. BUT IN EACH OF THESE CAR WASHES IS A BAR.
SO I’M THINKIN’, “THIS ISN’T VERY GOOD…IF YOU’RE ALREADY AT A CAR WASH, CHANCES ARE YOU DROVE THERE, AND NOW THERE’S A BAR TO BANG A FEW BACK WHILE THEY WORK ON GETTIN’ YOUR CAR SHINY CLEAN. SO BY THE TIME YOU LEAVE, YOU COULD BE PRETTY BUZZED UP TO DRIVE…”
WE LEARNED LATER, THAT THESE PLACES ARE ACTUALLY BROTHELS, SO AT NIGHT, THERE’S NOT REALLY THAT MANY CARS GETTIN’ WASHED…
OH BROTHER…
WE WERE TOLD, VERY CASUALLY, LAUGHINGLY, BY OUR DRIVER THAT THE POLICE WERE ALL CORRUPT. WE DIDN’T REALLY DIG FOR THAT INFO EITHER…I SAID SOMETHING, DON’T EVEN REMEMBER QUITE WHAT, AS WE PASSED A POLICE STATION OUT IN THE COUNTRY, AND OUR DRIVER TOLD US IN NO UNCERTAIN TERMS HOW CORRUPT THE POLICE WERE…WELL, FORTUNATELY THAT FACT DIDN’T PLAY INTO OUR EXISTENCE WHILE WE WERE THERE.
THE RESORT WAS NOTHING SHORT OF INCREDIBLY STRANGE. EVERYTHING WAS OVERSIZED, THE WAY I WOULD IMAGINE ANCIENT EGYPT TO HAVE BEEN. THE LOBBY, OR “HALL WHERE WE CHECKED IN” WAS ENORMOUS. JUST OUTSIDE MINNEAPOLIS PRINCE HAS PAISLEY PARK, A HUGE STUDIO/COMPOUND. I WAS LUCKY ENOUGH TO BE TAKEN THROUGH THE WHOLE PLACE IN 1987, AND ONE THING I ALWAYS REMEMBERED WAS THIS ONE HUGE ROOM…BECAUSE IT’S BELOW ZERO HALF THE YEAR IN MINNEAPOLIS, PRINCE HAD HAD THIS ONE ROOM BUILT BIG ENOUGH TO DRIVE BUSSES AND SEMI TRAILERS INTO, SO THAT ENTIRE TOURING GROUPS COULD COME THERE AND UNLOAD ANYTHING IN THE DEAD OF WINTER TO SHOOT VIDEOS. WELL, THE CHECK IN LOBBY IN THIS PLACE IN PUNTA CANA WAS BIGGER THAN THAT…AND THAT WAS ITS ONLY FUNCTION. I HAVE NEVER SEEN THAT LEVEL OF WASTED SPACE IN MY LIFE. AND THE SAME WENT FOR MUCH OF THE RESORT. HUGE, HUGE, ENORMOUS, GIGANTIC ROOMS WITH ALMOST NOTHING IN THEM. THE CHECK IN LOBBY HAD A CEILING THAT WAS ALMOST FIFTY FEET HIGH. AND IT MUST HAVE BEEN AT LEAST ONE ACRE. WELL, LET’S SEE…ONE ACRE IS APPROXIMATELY ONE FOOTBALL FIELD…YEAH…THIS WAS AT LEAST THAT, PROBABLY MORE. AND THERE WAS NOTHING IN IT. ONCE, WAY BACK IN 1969, THE GUESS WHO PLAYED WEST POINT MILITARY ACADEMY. WE PLAYED IN THE MAIN MESS HALL THERE. I THOUGHT THAT ROOM WAS GIGANTIC TOO…BUT I STILL THINK THAT THIS “CHECK IN LOBBY” MIGHT HAVE BEEN BIGGER…
I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE THINKING BEHIND THE CONSTRUCTION WAS, BUT IT MADE ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE TO ME.
NOW, I’M NOT TYPING ALL THIS TO RAG ON THE D.R. BELIEVE ME, THE PEOPLE WERE WONDERFUL, AND SO WERE THE BEACHES. AS FAR AS THE WEATHER, MAYBE A LITTLE TOO HUMID FOR ME. I LOST SEVERAL POUNDS IN SWEAT OVER THE THREE DAYS. AND LORNE AND I WERE IN ADJOINING SUITES, WITH A COMMON GROUND ROOM BETWEEN THE TWO…THAT ROOM HAD MOULD IN IT ALREADY, AND THIS RESORT HADN’T EVEN BEEN OPEN SIX MONTHS. MOULD FRIGHTENS ME MORE THAN INSECTS OR EARTHQUAKES OR A LOT OF THINGS. IF MOULD GETS INTO YOUR LUNGS, YOU’RE IN FOR A SLOW, PAINFUL CRAWL TO THE GRAVE…SO, NEEDLESS TO SAY, LORNE AND I AVOIDED THAT IN BETWEEN ROOM COMPLETELY.
MONDAY NIGHT I COULDN’T SLEEP, SO I WENT DOWN TO THE OCEAN AROUND MIDNIGHT. IT WAS A FULL MOON, WITHOUT A CLOUD ANYWHERE. SPECTAC. IT WAS SO BRIGHT IT FELT AS THOUGH THE BEACH WERE LIT. WELL IT WAS, EXCEPT IT WAS LIT BY THE UNIVERSE, NOT BY MAN. I WENT INTO THE WATER AT ABOUT TWELVE THIRTY AT NIGHT AND IT WAS STILL LIKE A WARM BATH. THE OCEAN AFTER MIDNIGHT…STILL WARM…NOTHING LIKE THAT UNDER A FULL MOON. REALLY SOMETHING FOR THE SENSES. ALMOST “OVERLOAD OF TREMEND” IF YA KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
BUT I MUST SAY IN ALL HONESTY, THE FOOD WAS NOT THAT TREMEND. AND A FEW OF THE CONVENTIONERS GOT SICK…WHO KNOWS…IT COULD BE SOMETHING AS SIMPLE AS A SALAD WITH SOME LETTUCE THAT HAD BEEN WASHED IN BAD WATER…IT’S THAT EASY. BACTERIA ARE SMALL AND STUBBORN, AND BESIDES THAT, THEY TRAVEL WELL. THE WHOLE TIME WE WERE THERE, WE HAD NO DRINKS WITH ICE IN THEM. ONE NIGHT JEFFY JONES HAD SOME RUM AND COKE AT ROOM TEMPERATURE…UGH…YA REALLY GOTTA WANT A BUZZ PRETTY BAD TO GO THAT ROUTE.
ME, I STUCK TO THE ONE BEER YOU COULD GET THERE. THERE’S ONLY ONE BEER IN THE D.R. IT’S MADE IN THE D.R. IT’S CALLED “EL PRESIDENTE” AND I MUST SAY, IT’S TREMEND. JUST TREMEND. LOOK, I’VE GOT A LOT OF IRISH IN ME, AND I KNOW MY BEER. IT’S ALMOST THE ONLY ALCOHOL I DRINK ANYMORE, EXCEPT IF SOMEBODY REALLY KNOWS HOW TO MAKE A GREAT MARGARITA. SO I REALLY KNOW MY BEER…WELL, THIS STUFF, THE EL PRESIDENTE, THE BEER OF THE D.R. WAS SENSAISH. MATTER OF FACT, THAT NIGHT AFTER I WAS FINISHED MY SET, I DOWNED A FEW AND WAITED FOR THE FROGS TO DO AN HOUR BY THEMSELVES FOR THE FOLKS. THEN WE ALL HAD A FEW MORE.
I WOULD PAY DEARLY FOR THAT BEHAVIOUR THE NEXT DAY. CAME WEDNESDAY MORNING, I WAS FEELING GREAT AND LORNE AND I WERE PICKED UP AND DRIVEN BACK TO THE AIRPORT. WE CHECKED IN, GAVE THEM OUR BAGS AND WENT TO SIT BY THE AMERICAN AIRLINES GATE. WE WOULD FLY BACK TO MIAMI, AND THEN CONNECT TO L.A. FROM THERE, PRECISELY THE WAY WE HAD GONE.
SO IT’S TIME FOR THE FLIGHT TO MIAMI. ABOUT THREE HUNDRED OF US PASSENGERS ARE MARCHED OUT ONTO THE TARMAC AND WE’RE ALMOST AT THE STEPS LEADING UP ONTO THE PLANE, WHEN A WOMAN TURNS US ALL AROUND AND MARCHES US BACK INSIDE THE AIRPORT. NO ONE KNOWS WHAT’S GOING ON…THEN, TWO MINUTES LATER, THE AMERICAN AIRLINES REP OF PUNTA CANA TELLS US THAT OUR FLIGHT IS CANCELLED BECAUSE THE PILOT IS DRUNK. AND SOME OF THE OTHER AIRLINE PEOPLE ARE SAYING “INTOXICADA, INTOXICADA”…
OH BROTHER.
WELL, SO NOW HERE’S LORNE AND ME, HALF WAY ROUND THE WORLD FROM HOME, WITH OUR FLIGHT CANCELLED. MY FIRST REACTION WAS NOT PANIC…JUST ANGER. WE WERE NOW STRANDED. COULD THEY GET ANOTHER PILOT ? WE DIDN’T KNOW. ABOUT FORTY FIVE MINUTES GOES BY WITHOUT ANY INFORMATION BEING VOLUNTEERED TO US. NOW THE EL PRESIDENTE’S I HAD DOWNED THE NIGHT BEFORE COME INTO PLAY. THE AIRPORT IS NOT REALLY A BUILDING, IT’S JUST HUGE THATCHED HUTS. AND BY NOW, IT’S AFTERNOON AND IT’S ABOUT NINETY -SEVEN DEGREES PLUS, AND THE HUMIDITY IS STIFLING. AND WE’RE MILLING AMONGST ABOUT THREE HUNDRED OTHER PEOPLE ALL OF WHOM ARE NOW STUCK…NOW I’M SWEATING BULLETS. NOW I’M SWEATING OUT THE EL PRESIDENTE’S. I’M FROM CANADA, I DON’T DO WELL WITH HIGH HUMIDITY AND HEAT. ONE OF THE REASONS I ALWAYS LIKED L.A. SO MUCH WAS THAT IT’S NOT OVERBEARINGLY HOT, LIKE FLORIDA OR PALM SPRINGS OR PHOENIX OR THE TROPICS. WELL, THE HEAT IN PUNTA CANA WAS NOW BEATING ME UP…REALLY, REALLY BEATING ME UP.
NOW HERE’S WHERE BURTON PICKS UP THE PHONE IN LOS ANGELES AND ORDERS FROM “WINES OF THE WORLD” AT THE BOTTOM OF THE HILL. THEY DELIVER. THE GUY AT WOTW SAYS “WELL WHAT CAN WE BRING YOU TONIGHT, MR. CUMMINGS…?”
I REPLY “BRING ME SOMETHING THAT WILL GO WELL WITH CROW…”

WERE IT NOT FOR LORNE’S BLACKBERRY, I WOULDN’T BE TYPING THIS RIGHT NOW TO YOU. I WOULDN’T BE HOME YET, AS I’M SURE MANY OF THOSE THREE HUNDRED OTHERS ARE NOT. SOMEHOW, LORNE GOT A TEXT OUT TO OUR TRAVEL GUY, RENALDO, IN TORONTO, EXPLAINING OUR PREDICAMENT. AT THIS POINT, AMERICAN AIRLINES IS ANNOUNCING THAT WE WILL “ALL BE TAKEN TO A HOTEL, AND WILL BE PICKED UP AT FIVE A.M. TOMORROW MORNING AND RE ROUTED AND RE BOOKED.”
OH BROTHER…SO NOW, I’M NOT FEELING VERY GOOD AT ALL. LORNE’S STARTING TO WEAR DOWN WITH THE HUMIDITY…AFTER ALL, HE’S A WHOLE YEAR OLDER THAN ME…NOT TEN MINUTES LATER HE GETS A TEXT BACK FROM RENALDO SAYING THAT THERE’S A DELTA FLIGHT LEAVING PUNTA CANA IN TWENTY MINUTES AND HE’S SQUEEZED US INTO FIRST CLASS IF WE CAN MAKE IT OVER THERE.
WE’VE ONLY JUST AT THIS POINT GOTTEN OUR BAGS BACK, WHICH HAD ALREADY BEEN LOADED ONTO THE PLANE WITH THE DRUNK PILOT. AMERICAN HAS ALREADY TOLD EVERYONE THAT THERE ARE ABSOLUTELY NO MORE FLIGHTS LEAVING PUNTA CANA THAT DAY. THE BEST ANYONE CAN DO IS TOMORROW MORNING. AND THAT’S WHEN ALL THE RE ROUTING AND RE BOOKING WILL HAVE TO BE DONE.
LORNE JUST DIDN’T ACCEPT THIS. GOD BLESS HIM, I SAW A TREMENDOUS PERFORMANCE OF WILL TAKE PLACE RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY EYES. DRENCHED IN HIS OWN SWEAT, LORNE DISAPPEARS UPSTAIRS WITH THIS YOUNG DOMINICAN GUY WHO’S YAMMERING AT HIM HALF IN SPANISH AND HALF IN ENGLISH…LORNE YELLS AT ME TO WATCH OUR BAGS AND THE NEXT SIGHT I SEE IS LORNE AND THIS DELTA AIRLINES DOMINICAN GUY RUSHING UP THE STAIRS TO AN OFFICE, WITH LORNE HOLDING UP HIS BLACKBERRY IN THIS GUY’S FACE, SCREAMING AT HIM “LOOK…WE’RE BOOKED…RIGHT HERE…LOOK…FIRST CLASS…WE’RE BOOKED…!!!!!!”
THE SIGHT OF HIM HOLDING UP THAT BLACKBERRY LIKE ONE OF THE SACRED TABLETS MOSES BROUGHT DOWN FROM THE MOUNTAIN IS SOMETHING I SHALL TAKE WITH ME TO THE NEXT LIFETIME AND ALL THE OTHER ONES AFTER THAT…
SO I SIT DOWN ON THE CONCRETE FLOOR WITH THE BAGS, CAUSE I JUST CAN’T STAND UP ANYMORE IN THE HEAT AND HUMIDITY…
TICK TICK TICK…MINUTES GO BY…I’M SITTING ON THE FLOOR WATCHING ABOUT FOUR HUNDRED PEOPLE FROM FRANCE, LINED UP IN THE HEAT, CHECKING IN TO THE CHARLES DE GAULLE LINE…STILL NO LORNE…TICK TICK TICK…ANOTHER PINT OF LAST NIGHT’S EL PRESIDENTE ROLLS OUT OF MY POOR WRETCHED BODY, AND TRICKLES TOWARD THE CONCRETE FLOOR…
STILL NO LORNE…FIVE OR TEN MORE MINUTES AND I’M THINKING NOW THAT WE’RE THERE FOR THE NIGHT…
SUDDENLY LORNE AND THIS YOUNG GUY RUN BACK DOWN THE STAIRS WITH BAGGAGE TAGS, BOARDING PASSES AND A LOTTA SPEED IN THEIR HEELS…LORNE’S MOVING LIKE A SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD HIGH SCHOOL QUARTERBACK, GRABBING BAGS, HANDING ME MY BOARDING PASS, GETTING OUR PASSPORTS READY, WE’RE RUNNIN’ IN THIS HEAT, AND I MEAN RUNNIN’…AND WE GET TO THE DELTA AREA, WHICH IS ABOUT “THREE HUTS DOWN” (SEE AIRPORT PHOTO TO UNDERSTAND LAYOUT)…IT WAS A LONG WAY IN THE HEAT…LORNE AND THIS DELTA GUY ARE WAY AHEAD OF ME, I’M TRAILIN’ THEM BY TEN OR TWENTY YARDS, LITERALLY LEAVING A TRAIL OF SWEAT BEHIND ME…AND SOMEHOW WE GET THERE, OUR BAGS SOMEHOW GET ON THE PLANE, AND THERE WE ARE FLYING TO ATLANTA…
OH BROTHER…
THE BLACKBERRY. WITHOUT IT, WE WOULDN’T BE HOME YET. AS SEVERAL GOOD PEOPLE HAVE TOLD ME REPEATEDLY “BURTON, IT’S NOT THE CELL PHONES AND BLACKBERRYS THAT ARE THE PROBLEM…IT’S THE INCONSIDERATE PEOPLE WHO HAVE THEM AND USE THEM WITH DISREGARD.”
I SEE THAT MORE CLEARLY NOW, NOW THAT ONE OF THEM HAS ACTUALLY SAVED ME NOT ONLY A DAY AND A HALF OF MY LIFE, BUT SAVED ME IMMEASURABLE STRESS. IT WAS ABOUT FOUR HOURS TO ATLANTA, THEN WE SAT THERE ABOUT TWO HOURS, THEN WE FLEW ANOTHER FOUR HOURS OR SO TO L.A. GOT BACK TO THE HOUSE ABOUT ONE IN THE MORNING. SO FROM SUNDAY TO WEDNESDAY, WE WENT LITERALLY HALF WAY AROUND THE WORLD AND BACK, AND ALMOST GOT STUCK THERE…OR WORSE YET, WE COULD HAVE BEEN ON A PLANE WITH A DRUNK PILOT. LOOK ON A MAP WHERE L.A. IS AND THEN WHERE PUNTA CANA IS…THAT’S A LONG WAY, FOLKS.
THE D.R. IS GORGEOUS…SOME OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BEACHES I’VE EVER SEEN. BUT I’LL STILL TAKE HAWAII ANYDAY…THE BEACHES ARE JUST AS NICE IN HAWAII, BUT THE BIG DIFFERENCE IS THAT YOU CAN GO FROM THOSE BEAUTIFUL BEACHES RIGHT TO THE GOOD OLD SEVEN ELEVEN. I GUESS I’M A SUCKER FOR THE DECADENCE. I TRY TO BE AS OBJECTIVE AS POSSIBLE ABOUT ALL THINGS. HONESTLY TRY TO SEE THINGS FROM MORE THAN MY OWN POINT OF VIEW…BUT WHEN IT COMES RIGHT DOWN TO IT, I’M JUST AS WEAK AND PRONE TO “EASINESS” AS THE NEXT GUY…
I’LL TELL YOU MORE ABOUT THE D.R. LATER, BUT RIGHT NOW, I WANT TO INVESTIGATE SOME MORE OLD FOLDERS HERE IN MY TOWER…IT’S CHOCK FULL OF RECOLLECTIONS FROM YEARS GONE BY…
PEACE AND KINDNESS…
AND A LACK OF CRISIS OR PAIN…
I SEND ABSOLUTELY THE BEST THOUGHTS POSSIBLE TO WHOMEVER HAS READ THIS FAR…
BLC

NO CONSEQUENCE

advance, take flight
court the wares of the wary…
do you visit me of your own accord,
or is it “curious night” ?
hypoxia crosses the finish line
to no avail
there is no ticker tape parade,
no “pronouncement”
no consequence…
sadness thrives in no consequence,
as does fear,
but it is eventual, never at once.
there can be no dice rolled for consequence,
and it will take its time if need be.
patience none the virtue here,
down boy…good dog.
presenting Miss Understanding…
isn’t she pretty now…
catch and grasp, never the lesser,
for never comes sooner than later.
it is “never” later.
tired are the thoughts we fight for,
syllable after consonant, some with consequence, some without.
and once again,
sadness thrives in no consequence,
as does fear…

PNE VANCOUVER, 2019

Thanks to all who attended our show in Vancouver recently at the PNE…once again, we were blessed with good weather, even though the rain had been spitting a bit around 6PM, just a couple of hours before we hit the stage. Two large Canadian exhibition shows in one week, great crowds and great response at both…seems the followers STILL like hearing all the songs live that have been on the radio for so many years. It’s always a pleasure to play Vancouver, a beautiful city with a lot of its own music history…(Adams, Loverboy, etc.)

Will post some great photos from both Toronto and Vancouver very soon, but in the meantime, we’re getting ready for “Shake The Lake” just outside Regina next week…heartfelt thanks to all who are still following what we’re doing…

Peace and calm…BLC

CNE 2019

Randy Bachman & Burton Cummings

Thanks to all who attended our show at the CNE in Toronto last Friday (opening night)…and a special thank you to Randy Bachman for graciously showing up to provide a great surprise for the already huge crowd…the weather was perfect and the crowd was more than enthusiastic. Randy and I (and the band) performed American Woman, Takin’ Care of Business, and No Time together, and all three numbers were received beautifully. That twenty minutes or so might just signal the possibility of future things to come…we’ll all have to wait and see. It was emotional and fulfilling to perform again with someone whom I’ve known for over fifty years, especially being able to do songs that everyone knew from years of radio play. Very happy about last Friday at the CNE…peace to all…BLC

(Photo by Kevin Suter)

SELF PITY

These lyrics are from a Guess Who album released in 1973 entitled #10…Moe Berg (TPOS), whom I admire greatly, once posted that #10 was a “great album”…ironically, Jack Richardson, our long time Guess Who producer, once said in print “#10 is Ka-Ka”…I guess it’s all in the eye of the beholder…I always liked these lyrics, and, for that matter, all of #10…oh well…to each his own…

SELF PITY

Sure like to boogie after death comes callin’
Sure like rockin’ when I’m far away
“Ooh Pooh Pah Doo” is lettin’ Jesse watch the heavens
Paint another picture while you’re turning grey

Everything I knew about was always American
Skip a stone lightly and you’ll be okay
Never really get my rockin’ feet to movin’
Till somebody’s singing “Not Fade Away”

Got mystery train fever, and I’m a believer
And go down Moses, and I’ll send you red roses
Despair, and death at an early age

You sang about truckin’ and the band had it movin’
If you were a lizard then you might be gone
A little self-indulgence never moved a mountain
Don’t need the fiddler yellin’ “Yeah, right on!”

You’re my angel from a wet salvation
You can buy and sell me so you shine me on
Your mama worked hard and the acid made you think about it
Why, mother water, are the days all gone

Got mystery train fever, and I’m a believer
And go down Moses, and I’ll send you red roses
Despair, and death at an early age