Straight Jacket voice charms the mind
As I sit and stare at the ceiling tonight.
There is no going back this time.
Blame sits on your shelf
In a pornographic world full of hate
It's all a mistake
I was just the cloud of smoke you created
I lay here with a million winning tickets
and you have a million losing ends.
A spine cringes as you enter the room
you have your illusions
I have these gates.
So I toss my cigar in the ocean
Pull the anchor
It's the last you will see of this Commander any way.