There was a time when I did not think, but open the mouth and move words, and then there is now. There was a place carved out of hillside Where children played with wooden swords And summer was heaven. And somewhere between Rolf and Hamlet I eyeball Richard the III, thinking... 'Fuck, a beard and a bow'? Right now, I read great and stupid books Vaguely noting the comparison As my eyes duly sweep smoggy mountains There was a story I recall About a man on a deserted island, but then, just like that Came Friday, so he did it again, and again hitting his mark Like God-smack. I have a dream My face is mutilated I've become Tom Cruise, but taller. I think 'fuck, I was hoping for a thin Val Kilmer and maybe a golden globe' I wake up on mushrooms in Malibu Mumbling about god and math, and women find me attractive Because I'll put up with anything, but getting in my light (Or stepping on my lines).