They told me
To clear my head
So I roamed
Down the street
I opened my metal fly
And took a leak
The head felt the same
So I whistled
I buzzed
But nothing came
I walked further down the road
Passing houses
Filled with people
With clearer heads then mine
Maybe they knew the answer?
Maybe I didn't know a ****** thing?
Maybe I was the crazed one,
Walking around by himself,
In the snow covered streets of Chicago?
Who knows?
Who cares?
What truth?
There is one thing I do know,
That thing, that fact, that thing,
Is that I'll never know.