Josh Tillman and the Accidental Dose

She put on "Astral Weeks"
Said, "I love jazz" and winked at me
This is the last place I ought to be
But I can't drive and I sure can't sleep

Around this time, I publicly
Was treating acid with anxiety
I was unwell and suddenly
Her clown portraits spoke to me

You're in no shape
You're in no shape
All the king's horses, all the king's men
You may never be whole again

A publicist and a celibate
Started talking politics
By a small degree, she got him to admit
They're tacit fascists without knowing it

Oh, this went on and on
Performance art, an elaborate con
Baby, who wears pearls at 4 a.m?
This pitching yuppie found meaning's end

In no shape, mm
In no shape
All the king's horses, all the king's men
You may never be whole again
You may never be whole again
You may never be whole again

I saw something I shouldn't see
The awful truth, bare reality
That I'd forfeit my existence
If someone let me just play with them

Dawn long broke by the time
I realized that I lost my mind
I ate an ice cream dazed in the street
But it never taste quite as sweet
Again



Credits
Writer(s): Joshua Tillman, Drew Erickson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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