A place so damp and cold,
with trees withered and old.
The sky perpetually gray,
but sometimes I can escape.
A deep inhale from a pipe made of crystal,
a melody that I almost can whistle,
plays softly in the background of a land with color.
A mellow place yet oh so vibrant,
from nature an herb to fuel me just a bit longer.
But I wish the feeling would stay forever,
As I fall back to Earth I land so hard.
Back in that gray place I hate so much,
I drag my feet feeling number.
So this time I chew a little,
The rush of this destroys me a little.
But the colors are back and so vivid,
I am spinning out of control and suddenly I am drifting.
I don\'t wanna come down,
I think I am becoming addicted and the sensation is winning.
I think I just want to keep drifting.