Beijing Taxi

The morning it happened
I was in my bed
The sun shone on my face
My skin was red

My mouth was dry
Just like a napkin
My bed was wet
From the night before

I poured myself a cold glass of water
It tasted like a pair of jeans
So I went to the kitchen to refill my cup
Opened up the fridge
I couldn't find anything

But a lonesome slice of fresh white bread
It felt like a sign
Felt like that bread was mine
I put the bread in the toaster
I pushed the button and watched the walls of the toaster

Begin to glow like the fires in the fields
Of Verdun in World War One
Felt like I was standing there in South West France
1914 with my hands on my gun
Bodies lying on the ground
My neighbor's house, it had burned down
And all that remained
Was a toaster

I opened my eyes and the red sun now shone black with smoke
No switch was functional, no appliance was worked in my favor
I was worried my neighbors had awoken through a war they had no part in
I rushed into the tree to sink a cone of wax
As so I could peer into the metal box
I'd practically installed on the ceiling
Just inches from my peripheral view
I used a wooden chair to stand upon
I was shocked when I noticed
I'd shrunk to the size of a penny

And they glow like the fires in the fields
Of Verdun in World War One
Felt like I was standing there in South West France
It's 1914, with my hands on my gun
The bodies lying on the ground
My neighbor's house, it had burned down
And all that remained
Was a toaster

All that remained
Was a toaster
All that remained
All that remained
All that remained
All that remained
All that remained
Was a toaster