Object

Picture this, a story of misinterpretation
With a rotten smell of cheese
The man, he walked into the station
He sat down and stared at the scene
He was a little bit stirred and shaken
Yes, it was definitely a case of LSD
And he is soon to have made a gesture
Of which he did not recall

Recall the man who was staring
What had he done?
What he had done?
Think think lost when a skinner cut it up
With a pale white fear reaching for security
Well, not there
Except in this fear of negative perception
Was created by the eyes of the ones who stared

And now this object of filth is the pig
And the pig is what they thought
Because he thought
And he was stretching his hands through the air
And done he had what?

And yes, the train, it pulled into the station
And everyone came out to see
Yes, a smoke wood went out around him
And it was taking all the air and he couldn't breathe
And all the people, they danced around him
Laughing and calling him "Pig, pig, pig"
When all the pointing and chanting, pointing and chanting

Pointing through all this confusion, I lost my mind
When all this thought that I thought
The thought that I thought
Just smoked one
And ended his life
And ended his life a mess

The medicine came, convulsions
And beating inside my brain
My bones and teeth are shattered
What had he done?
Done he had what?