Bombers party

it's an lsd party come as you are,
come dirty,  come clean
there's a guy under the table and I ask are you alright
He said I'm happier down here playing with the dead
Two guys are ripping the cupboards from the kitchen walls
One turns to other and says he's not in here, you check the hall
Bomber it's her house and she's as big as a bank
Atlas is in the corner and he looks twice to make sure no one catches him having a wank, Kurt Russell walks in and this women screams, fuck of, you arsehole, your ruining my dream. 
Bomber has euphoria tucked in her smile, eyes half open, eyes half closed
She whispers to Patrica, I'd kill for ice cream
Bones with his long blonde hair, his bent cock and his pet rat 
offers everyone coloured mushrooms sizzling from a pan
A car drives off into the night, into the world, into another dimension
and is never seen again. 
The road that was flat is now quite steep, monsters are lurking up and down the street
punching letter boxes and terrorising every one they meet
And the colours they dance and they laugh, mesmerising patterns on walls and on sheets, my back is hard against the sky, looking back down I see a tear lying on the ground and it makes me feel sad, that tear could be mine.