Station

by Meat Puppets

1 Views Apr 02, 2026

Lyrics

Every thought's a game

A pack of chimps I cannot tame

You're wondering who to blame

Now your ride has come up lame

Fortres full of hate

Fears and hopes all pound the gate

To early, it's too late

What is evil, which is great?

Pigs are sheep and cats are dogs

And thoughts are made of Lincoln Logs

To tend to the mice and wood

Where black is blue and bad is good

Thoughts that I keep my money in

Melt some wax and chunks of tin

Forget your name, how to walk and ignore

The light shining in from under the door

Thoughts like a thread through a foam device

Liquid bread and rubber ice

Make a promise, grow teeth, go to bed

Wake up when you're dead