i just want to go home now
by vicki pecora
started getting tired of lookin' at all these trees
Thought I'd move to Los Angelees.
Grabbed my bags and headed out the door
Pedal to the metal feeling like a rebel to the core
But when the highway patrol turned on his light, you know I had to pull over to the right
"Thank you for hassling me on this fine beautiful day" I said.
Then I spun my tires entering the highway just ahead.
Stopped on top of the border hill, looked down to see the sights.
But a thick brown haze was all I could see, try as I might.
Wasn't enough nicotine in the air though, so I sat down and lit a cigarette, thought about the situation.
Stopped at the corner store to buy myself some rum only to hear "get out of here" when I bumped into the corner wino bum. "Get off this curb you rookie bum you give us homeless a bad name". "go away". I guess my friends were right, I need to get some new clothes have my hair done, or something...
Went to find a phone to call a friend who'd promised me a job. Talked about five minutes while my car was being robbed.
I got the job, it's a good one too. I get paid in cash, and my boss he likes me so much he lets me pinch some stash.
Decided to audition for an acting job. Seemed like an easy gig.
So I thumbed over to the place where the studio was hid.
Snoopin' around I found the room. Inside were 5 men with no clothes. camera action.
Couple of days later I crawled away tried to find a place to rest, but there was no room at the Inn so I traveled further west.
Laid my weary head down on the sand to ease my cares, but couldn't rest my eyes, for the scenery that was there.
Fashionable men and women, not quite dressed for swimmin'. More like leather boots,whips, chains and sinnin'.
Moving on I crossed the street still admiring the view, almost got run over by a Beimdoubleue.
Stopped at the bar this time for a beer. This chick at the bar was talking to me but I didn't really hear. Politely, acting like I cared, I lit a cigarette, took a thoughtful drag.
Suddenly i realized the bar was full of flaming, well you know.
She'd asked me if I'd like to be receiving, my thoughts were of leaving.
I found myself in what must be a racist idea of hell. I was soon confronted by several color flying cocks. I add libbed mental illness and they let me walk. They pushed me around a bit. I slobbered growled and spit.
Soon I came to a freeway, put my thumb out in the breeze, hoping some serial killer didn't come along and kill me.
Suddenly shots rang out, all around me asphalt flew. Well hitchhiking has never been safe, but this was something new.
Laying on the ground with a mouthful of rocks, I decided people were right, it's not safer to walk.
Lord help me get out of this place, there is no end to the cycle of strangeness and disease.
I really want to go home now and sit under my big oak tree.