Bro, This Tastes just like Purple
I took the Blue to taste the Red, to clear this Green from out my head,
with a Yellow beige my body begged me to close the shades,
my mind was way too displayed for 4 p.m. Tuesday.
I was in search of Purple, that violent violet,
a Himalayan high for all the clever kind kids,
I grew up in a barrage of whiteness,
so I welcome colors with bright lit eyelids.
I popped a pill called "To the Nines",
with the Reds, the Blues, the Greens I liked,
with a hint of Orange, and Burgundy,
I snaked off the couch in serpentine.
That Burgundy turned a dark Maroon,
when I felt I could hardly move,
but then the Lime came in with light,
and fed me warmth to feel right.
Then in the stretch of a forever moment,
I was swimming in that Purple emotion,
I figured the cost of this joyful token,
was to hold it after I was awoken.
As soon as it hit, that moment caved in,
and inside my room, my friend Frank came in,
and about his day he was explaining,
but I was dressed to the nines and my mind was racing,
so I said, "Hey man, I hope your heart holds nothing hurtful."
He said, "What?"
So I replied, "Bro, this shit tastes just like Purple."