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  • 3am
    Foggy night
    Lit by a single streetlight
    Only car in the McDonalds parking lot
    Sitting in passenger seat, door open
    Legs on the pavement
    Egg McMuffin in hand
    Eerily silent
    Golden light from the neon sign
    Searing through the thick mist
    Welcoming ghostly customers
    That aren't there
    Look around at the nothingness
    Sit in the mist
    Good vibes spill over from the future
    Into the present
    Purple syrupy happiness in the face of
    Must have this to have what's coming
    Opening act to a dream
    That was reality

    Everything is stale
    The answer is breakfast
    Moving something out of its time slot
    Causes humor.
    Incense wafting in the air
    Blue light from the TV
    Has the presence of a human
    Cold damp air from outside
    Still lingers on our goosebumps
    Electric heat is the happiness machine
    Burnt eggs with frills like
    Coffee is blacker than asphalt
    We know what we're doing
    This shit tastes like shit
    But there's nothing wrong with that.
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