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letra de grade 8 - bruce mcculloch

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i did all my acid in grade 8
that was the old days, when acid had names
flavors, as it were
windowpane, orange sunshine
but then things shifted
acid stopped having names
and chips became flavored
that’s progress?
i can remember a time when you can get orange sunshine
windowpane, or purple microdot
but the only chips you can get are plain
or, in some stores, rippled
cut to the chase

i did all my acid in grade 8
i gobbled it right quick, i couldn’t get enough of it

i did all my southern comfort in grade 9
one bottle, ooh, what a night
this is how janis died?
what a sickly way to go
and kinda sweet too, you know?
cut to the chase

i did all my acid in grade 8

i did all my hash in grade 7
thought i was going to say “10”, didn’t ‘cha? uh-uh
the thing i hate about hash, apart from the revolting taste
was the way it made your eyes stare inside your tiny little body
just sittin’ there, listening to uriah heep
a little of that goes a long way
same as acid, i guess you could say
cut to the chase

i did all my acid in grade 8

it might have got low for me
but i never did eat no vegetarian chili
it might have got low for me
but i never did consume the eastern philosphies
which i used to think, you know, was eastern canada
fisherman’s philosophies, as in “ah, the old sea”
cut to the chase

i loved all my love in high school

i gave all my love to those three seperate, cruel, cruel queens
sh-lly warwick, susan moriarity, tammy gorgonchuck
and, now, i walk around in a hash-less, acid-less, un-southern-comfort-able haze
and, as i do, i think about my income tax

- bruce mcculloch

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