Wolves Inside My Head - Jess and the Ancient Ones

Everything we have to do, is to get to the truth has to be sneaky

It seems a shame to sneak to get to the truth

To make the truth such an evil dirty ol' nasty thing

You gotta sneak to get to the truth, the truth is condemned

The truth is in the gas chamber

The truth has been in your stockyards, your slaughterhouses

The truth has been in your reservations

Building your railroads

Emptying your garbage

The truth is in your ghettos, your jail, your young love

Not your courts or your congress where the old seek judgement on the young

What the Hell do the old know about the young

Put a picture of ol' George on the dollar and tell ya he’s your father worship

him

Of death and hippie dreams

Hoffman’s medicines

Your lingering acid tongue

Keeps screaming unto me

And I know it’s a wild ride

Surf the veils of coloured death

When all the lights they call me home

The truth I’ve known

This is a separate reality

The strangest kind of tomorrow

The face I wear is not my own

Howling, like the wolves inside my head

Loving stabbing hands

The carving knives of doom

Macabre femme fatale

Eyes of liquid smoke

Born of flowers and rainbows

A western cult of death

Radio Aquarius transcending all to see

This is a separate reality

The strangest kind of tomorrow

The face I wear is not my own

Howling, like the wolves inside my head

Every Day, every reality is a new reality

Every new reality is a new horizon

A brand new experience of living

I will taste my mind’s hysteria

I am tuning in and dropping out

I touch the hands of true inertia

I am the lost, I am to be found

This is a separate reality

The strangest kind of tomorrow

The face I wear, I don’t belong

Howling, like the wolves inside my head

Oh Charlie Darling

What have you done

I got got a note last night from a friend of mine

He writes in his note that he’s afraid of what he might have to do to save his

reality

As I have saved mine