Trip-tych

Bed wet You have no friends You did that dirty thing They point and laugh When you do that Ain't no mountain high under borrowed blankets Life is, life is not fair And you knew that when you laid there So make a pact Just take my hand You're just a spoiled fickle shy suburbanite Higher, it goes higher Soon you'll feel much lighter The glass is cracked Bottleneck it If you don't you'll never run out of anger Backwards, take back your words, boy What do you mean you're not afraid of what you're made of, Jack Ain't no mountain high