The gig is up she pounds on the front of the door

I got nothing to give to the girl anymore

You want my records the TV the Spaghetti pot

The Pills they plot bang bang my shirt like a smock

Hallucinate Hallucinate

I watch westerns with a red herring close to my heart

I'd watch them less but I wait for them callus remarks

I'll go to Italy to meet you in a desert in Spain

You call it fantasy I call it a trip in my brain

Hallucinate Hallucinate

With blinders on my head I'm coming out

Spaghetti westerns she calls me out on the street

With cigar and a smoking gun she stands over me

A fatal blow through my poncho my blood level low

Oh no two tickets to the gun show

Hallucinate Hallucinate

With blinders on my head I'm coming out