mustache man (wasted)

launching loony thoughts into the bending of your mind, you reach for something high but it's a mountain that you find, he's a king dust demon with an icepick smile, his music fills your feathers as you feel your passions fly, with the mustache man on the carpet of his van, you can feel your fatty tissues giving way to sweaty hands, and the woofers keep distorting and the tweeters kiss the girls, his horn-rimmed glasses lights a square beneath his curls, i have wasted so much time, i have wasted so much time, he is like a politician who is practicing a speech, he is racing, he is pacing, he is sleeping on his beat, as the sky begins to darken and the waves begin to roll, you can feel the oceans rising as you're losing all control, and meanwhile back at the candlerock lounge, it is past 11:30 and your friends are getting down, they're applying purple eyeshadow, drinking warm beer, they're wondering where you went to when you told them you'd be here, i have wasted so much time, i have wasted so much time, i have wasted so much time, i have wasted so much time