I search for the truth I find no luck.. I search for solace in my friend the rock.. And I have a friend on the telephone.. A crystal and some cash and my tomorrow's known.. Cross my legs and I am one.. With what I was or I am to become.. And I have the stars and some pixie dust.. Oh and Elvis nights on Thursday and it's a must.. Chorus: Have your every thought just possibly.. Your ideals are a twisted philosophy.. By a man in a suit who loves currency.. Or a woman who is called instability..