Weed

Green thoughts in a room full of green haze.
Are my hands really connected to my arms
Or are they only pretending to be?
When I laugh, does that take me one step further away
From some deep mysterious Truth?
Someone's trying to explain something to me,
Something that might have something to do with me,
But how can I be sure?
Maybe I should keep listening,
Only there's a fly on the wall
And that's much more interesting.
Is that blood dripping from the ceiling?
I think somebody lives upstairs.
Or should I say lived?
I think I hear clapping,
But no, it's a candy wrapper.
Maybe I should think about God.
"Isn't that right, Dan," says Ben, clapping me on the shoulder.
"Huh-huh. Yeah, man. You said it all."