I did all my acid in Grade 8
That was the old days, when acid had names
Flavors, as it were
Windowpane, Orange Sunshine
But then things shifted
Acid stopped having names
And chips became flavored
That's progress?
I can remember a time when you can get Orange Sunshine
Windowpane, or Purple Microdot
But the only chips you can get are plain
Or, in some stores, rippled
Cut to the chase
I did all my acid in Grade 8
I gobbled it right quick, I couldn't get enough of it
I did all my Southern Comfort in Grade 9
One bottle, ooh, what a night
This is how Janis died?
What a sickly way to go
And kinda sweet too, you know?
Cut to the chase
I did all my acid in Grade 8
I did all my hash in Grade 7
Thought I was going to say "10", didn't 'cha? Uh-uh
The thing I hate about hash, apart from the revolting taste
Was the way it made your eyes stare inside your tiny little body
Just sittin' there, listening to Uriah Heep
A little of that goes a long way
Same as acid, I guess you could say
Cut to the chase
I did all my acid in Grade 8
It might have got low for me
But I never did eat no vegetarian chili
It might have got low for me
But I never did consume the Eastern philosphies
Which I used to think, you know, was Eastern Canada
Fisherman's philosophies, as in "Ah, the old sea"
Cut to the chase
I loved all my love in high school
I gave all my love to those three seperate, cruel, cruel queens
Shelly Warwick, Susan Moriarity, Tammy Gorgonchuck
And, now, I walk around in a hash-less,
Acid-less, un-Southern-Comfort-able haze
And, as I do, I think about my income tax