The essence of this song is the acoustic guitar playing this simple structure | | | | and adding this tail after the verse no. 3, 6, 7. | | I ran down the road, pants down to my knees Screaming "please come help me, that Canadian shaman gave a little too much to me!" And I'm writing a novel Because it's never been done before First house that I saw I wrote house up on the door And told the people who lived there they had to get out "Cause my reality is realer than yours" And there's no time in the present And there's a black dog on the bed I went to the backyard to burn my only clothes And the dog ran out and said "You can't turn nothing into nothingness with me no more" Well I'm no doctor but that monkey might be right And if he is I'll be walking him my whole life I rode to Malibu on a dune buggy with Neil He said "You're gonna have to drown me down on the beach if you ever want to write the real" And I said "I'm sorry, young man, what is your name again?" Now everywhere I go in West Hollywood It's filled with people pretending they don't see the actress, and the actress wishing that they could We could do Ayahuasca Baby if I wasn't holding all these drinks Something 'bout the way Violet whips her hair That makes me empty my pockets holding court on the corner burning twenties as if I was the mayor I don't need any new friends, Momma But I could really use something to do So if you're up for it sometimes I swear you wouldn't have to be my muse Heidegger and Sartre, drinking poppy tea I could've sworn last night I passed out in my van and now these guys are pouring one for me I'll never leave the canyon, 'cause I'm surrounded on all sides By people writing novels and living on amusement rides