open up the door. lay the orange juice on the floor. we're having a picnic on the other side of town. there's sleeping bags and fire. and it's getting down to the wire. so grab yourself a spot and settle down awhile. 'cause its getting hard to think. and my clothes are starting to shrink. and the moon is saggin down like a metal ball. and the world is a holiday. smokin' in an old ashtray. they just blow it out their nose and say ok. so let's try to make it last. the past is still the past.