Heartache is something not had,
We just find other ways to make us feel sad,
And when everyone says “time will heal”
Until I know for sure, my lips are sealed.

Given the time I would read
Uta Frith so to knock me for six,
The craziest dreams wine and dairy combine,
And a hint of overdosed vengeant mind.

Stuck in the mud, stuck in the mud, 
Stuck in the mud, stuck in the mud, 

Blood pressure drops from the aid
of Sycamore Canyon before I lay,
Under the comfort of perspirant sheets,
Trails of sheep don’t seem to pack me to sleep.

Stuck in the mud, stuck in the mud, 
Stuck in the mud, stuck in the mud