Now there’s a sandbox in the house, as though lying on the beach.
Boys, I just had a thought, maybe if we just listen and not at all teach.
Now a teepee etched on the mind, from within my psychedelic den,
by reliving ones childhood, it might make us wise men, again.
Piano tuning, garnished with sea salt, sinking even deeper,
down with non-believers, rejected by the crazy gatekeeper.
Add a pinch of snorting pepper, minds are suddenly lighter, than dark.
While sitting on the same pile of sand, as a pack of squatting dogs bark,
yelping pups protesting in Downtown Main Street.
Upon hearing some musical witchcraft, with a constant zombie beat,
Demonstrating ‘bout a propaganda communist war.
While rushin’ to eat a smorgasbord full of paranoia, that’s for sure.
A preacher man telling us all, god just jumped off, with a man on the moon.
Meanwhile, climbing four walls of my bedroom, can’t find a way out, anytime soon,
as a voice in my head, is telling me, “To be even more bizarre”.
For too many lonely years in bed, I finally woke up, by plucking at my guitar,
then back upon the stage, in beautiful California, the greatest surfing town.
Still getting nasty flashbacks though, oh how LA can weigh you down.

A guitarist from Alabama, kept on giving, even whilst laying in the hot sun    
Although he was taught the ropes, by the original Robbie Johnson    
The young teenager named Lockwood, from Turkey Scratch    
Was a maestro studio muso, but couldn’t lite a dry match    
He never made the pop charts with the record paying folks    
But a legend in the music scene, recording with other blokes    
Still, some people like me, would chuck a silver nickel in a jukebox, for a wopp    
In the beginning, most bands were sleepin’ on the rope.

Only friend I’ve ever had
Was my dear ole slave dad
He told me once, think about your future
Forget about the south’s criminal past
Cotton pickin’ and turnin’ plow, on a plantation field
He never once saw the money that it did yield
Big boss said, he almost cleared the books
Plantation bosses are the real crooks
Daddy gave them a fistful, got a spoonful in return.

Pure music, is just three chords and some homemade truth
Much like the glory days, of New York Yankees and Babe Ruth
It’s like eating chicken one day, feathers the next
Or totally in love, ending in a divorce court, with no respect
She can make you cry, smile, think or dream, how bizarre
It can sound like being inside, an old worn out guitar
Being perfectly picked and plucked, as one should
Fully surrounded by good ole seasoned wood
Like a community is unity, which once went without saying
It’ll help propel the voice of the next generation, in the making
No matter where you are in the world, that’s admiring
Music could be the meaning, to what it’s all about, so awe inspiring.

Am I really living?  
Am I just a holy ghost?  
Created from something within our space,  
Or maybe sent from the command outpost.  
  
Tell me how,  
Show me a sign, of a life before man  
I’m just a curious type, I need to know more  
Because before this life ends for me  
I want to learn, I want to see  
Just show me which way, I know you can, you can.  
   
People, losing their minds,  
Throwing out children into society  
Bullying, Jealousy, then murdering for notoriety    
People, use to have a choice,  
But now they shutdown free speech.  
   
People, oh no,  
Weren’t meant to divide this world  
If all this hate doesn’t stop happening real soon,  
Stop happening, stop happening soon we’re doomed.  
   
Hear me, I’ve not got long to go,  
Give me your answer real soon,  
Can’t wait for the man on the moon  
Need that message in a bottle  
Can’t wait for mankind to find you  
   
People, oh no (we’ve all been created the same),  
Don’t divide the world,  
We sometimes forget we should all adore  
   
Can everyone imagine a world full of peace?  
Mohammad, Buddha, Jesus or Lennon, sing a little louder,  
Make it more meaningful and inspirational  
Do it, do it for free.  
(Dream on) Dream on.  
(Dream on) Dream on,  
Dream on together  
Hal-le-lu-jahhhh  
   
Am I still living  
Your just as confused as me.  
Your just one man with a much larger family  
Show us the way observing from high above our galaxy.  
   
Not got that long,  
You know what I mean  
Not got that long,  
Not got that long to go.  
   
In the end I might know....

When are they gonna break away
Or when are they going to die
Did I miss what society had to say
Should I have just turned the same way

We all think we can beat the odds
Some hadn’t even placed a single bet
Am I the only one, that listened to me and not them
This life’s too simple, to be ruined by an honest mistake

So wake up children who choose white laced candy
When their night’s start, just as the sun begins to wake
You can't even chat, face to face, that’s not very dandy
Just admit, you have a problem, it’s with your addiction

Find the sun as it rises to bake
Burning ever so slightly, enough to open your eyes
Then, just take a **** good hard look at yourself
Beyond that pale face and those awful lies

Who’s face do you look at in the mirror
Can you see the real you, hidden amongst the cracks
It could take you a lifetime to show your true self
Getting back on track, hopefully then, you’ll reappear

Maybe you'll come back down to earth
There's still plenty of hope and dreams to fulfil
Demons deep inside, know they can’t live in this paradise
In the end, it’s up to you, don’t let this be your very last meal

So wake up children, who choose white laced candy
When their night’s start, just as the sun begins to wake
You even fear chat, face to face, that’s not very dandy
Just admit, you have a problem, it’s with your addiction

Find the sun as it rises to bake
Burning ever so slightly, enough to open your eyes
Oh, just take a good hard honest look at yourself
Beyond your pale face and all of your lies.