Mirror That Lies, Mirror That Lies, That

Elvis Up In Michigan And Maybe Out In Mars.

My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink, And I Don't Love Jesus. It's That Kind Of Morning.

Barmaid, Bring A Pitcher, Another Round Of Brew. Honey, Why Don't We Get Drunk And Screw?

Where It All Ends I Can't Fathom, My Friends. If I Knew, I Might Toss Out My Anchor.

Places I've Lived Since Then Had To Have Some Kind Of Uniqueness And Character About Them. And Logically Key West, And Then Down Island. So, All Of That Stuff Sort Of Had It's Roots In New Orleans And Went Crazy.