Grade 8
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I did all my acid in grade 8
That was the days when acid had names
Flavors, as it were
Window pane, orange sunshine
But then things shifted
Acid stopped having names
And chips became flavored
That's progress?
I remember a time when you could get orange sunshine, window pane, or purple microdot
But the only chips you could get were 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
Ooo, what a night
This is how Janis died?
What a sickly way to go
And kinda sweet, too, ya know?
Cut to the chase
I did all my acid in grade 8
I did all my hash in grade 7
Thought I was gonna say 10, didn't 'ya? 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 listenin' 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 mighta got low for me
But I never did eat no vegetarian chili
It mighta got low for me
But I never did consume the Eastern philosophies
Which I used to think, you know, was Eastern Canada
Fisherman's philosophies
As in, "Ah, you'll see."
Cut to the chase
I loved all my love in High School
I gave all my love to those three separate, cruel, cool queens
Shelly Warwick, Susan Moriarty, Tammy Gorgenchuck
And now I walk around in a hashless, acidless, un-southern comfortable haze
And as I do
I think about my income tax
Hmmmm...
Courtesy of Bruce McCulloch and Atlantic Records
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