High (Revised 2023)

This icicle tear in your eye

I'll let it melt

I'll make it dry

Let's try our own beer brewed from rye

And from spelt

Getting high

This is how we used to feel

In the summertime

This is how we used to dance

In the lunar shine

This is how we used to laugh

About our mocking rhymes

So high

No icicle fear can tell why

And how we felt so alive