I moved a few years ago
To the upper state of Vermont
Although the place is beautiful
At times it can be one great big yawn

That's when we put our heads together
Me and my best friend Shawn
And came up with the great idea
To start a Hippie Farm

Our noggins were a knocking
Not sure how this could be done
Do Hippies come from packs of seeds
Or like flowers, in a bunch

And can you start them off by grafting
Like they do on Apple Farms
Where you get rows and rows of Hippies
From just a single one

That's when Shawn remembered this mail order magazine
That we took out and took a look inside
It came with an assortment of Hippies
From Raw to Roasted to Highly Deep Fried

So we sat and weighed all of our options
And ordered a bushel of Hippies alive
Then we set out cultivating the fields
Till the day our Hippies arrived

The package  arrived a few days later
In an old beat up VW Bus
With psychedelic smoke pouring from the windows
Pretty sure they all came buzzed

Of course Hippies don't come with instructions
Only bell bottom jeans and old Jefferson Airplane tapes
Can't tell you how many Hippies we went through
Before we learned from our mistakes

Like don't plant a Hippie face first in the dirt
They need a bit of air to breath
And they don't like to be over watered
Just dust them off when you feel the need

Now that the farm is up and running
We seem to have come into our own
We've even come up with  a way of branding
Some of the Hippies that we've grown

We started selling them in flavors
Like Ben and Jerry's down the street
From our Abbie Hoffman Radical Cherry
To our Hendrix Hazy Purple Berry Treat

But it's our Groovy Rainbow Roundup Hippie
Whose sales have never let us down
In fact I'd put that Hippie up against
Anybody else's Hippie in town

I've never been much of one to brag
But we're known on the East coast, up and down
We've had people as far away as Florida
Come and buy our Hippies by the pound

So next time your up in Vermont
Stop in and take a tour and watch us grow
Don't forget to stop by our gift shop
And purchase your very own Hippie to take home

Trust your vaulted hallucinations
Trust your most ridiculous
impossibilities
Trust the wild visions that arise
from moments of boredom

Do not trust the larcenous glares
that surround you
Do not believe the gravity
in the black holes of pupils

Trust the improbabilities
and they will become realities

I am a collector.
Some would say I am good.
Others would say I am lucky.
A few who know me would say I'm a *****.

I couldn't care if I bang you.
I just want your number.
I'm just feeling the need to be better
Than everyone else.

To know I can get your girl, or that one over there.
My presence is bigger and I'm more important, you should care.
To know I could sleep with a celebrity's daughter.
The paparazzi would obviously look at me if they caught her.

Trust me, I can beat you at whatever it is.
I might be lying, A bluff; hit or a miss.
I've done someone like you before this,
A dozen times or more.

Bottom line ladies and gentlemen:
Know not just who I am,

I make myself look like a rogue and a roar
For fear of finding my role.
Collecting people and demanding more
Because I am afraid of who I am.

It's alright to be me.
I am nothing more.