Leftover hippies are not as trippy
except for when they flashback
Too old to get high, memories in smoke
can’t snort any more crack

They’ve been out there
where everything looks real
Tied-dye moons with pink stars
monsters made out if steel

Remember the pusher man
summer of love, 1967
All the grass and pills you need
Enough drugs to get high up in heaven

Mr. Natural and some Boone’s Farm wine
That’s how they kissed the sun
All the peace and love they felt
We are brothers, everyone