Hold your fire, don't shoot me I'm
in need of a friend And I'm cold and
seeking shelter from the storm Put
aside your rifle Help me steer around
the bend Help me find my way back
to the road for home
You see I'd grown my hair I got my
head all straight Went after the American
dream But I always ended up outside
looking in on someone's scene
I was raised on hope and plastic carrot
strung out right before my face I chased
every pretty woman looking my way twice
But they all disappeared without trace
I've been shoved around from town
to town it came so naturally I've been
stopped and searched maybe fourteen
times on my way from A to B I've been
pointed at by children while I was sleeping
in the park And I was heading home dejected
when I scared you in the dark
You could see me there at every happening
with my album by the Byrds I was shown
how to question the great I Ching
but I could dig some of the words
I've smoked a ton of marijuana I
sat crossed legged till my legs went
numb I made peace signs at the farmers
when they called me a no good bum
I've read pornographic literature
And I've studied the underground press I
had given my all to Krishna who I was
told would not take less I spent three
weeks making necklaces from oriental
beads They were stolen by my guru
while I was high on glory seeds
See I'd taken to wearing sandals
And I'd given up watching TV I was rolling
up grass in the American flag and I was
sick from snorting "C" I blew
my mind out on a trip one night and
I ran all the way back to town But the
minute I saw the lights in their faces I
freaked and turned right around
Well my skin turned yellow and my
eyes sunk back from my diet of boiled
brown rice I would shuffle past bright
warm houses to my groove pad cold as ice I've
been beaten down and busted and I've
wound up on my own And there's nothing
left that buzzes me So I'm returning
home
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