My head is so filled with Dogtown, with feral beasts, cosmic misdirections, angry old women with terrible secrets and desires, the "past" and the present, crumbling cellar walls...
Now I've got a mind full of wicked designs
I've got a non-stop hole in my head—imagination
I'm in a building that has two thousand floors, and when they all fall down
I think you know it's you they're fallin' for
I can't forget I am a sole architect
I built the shadows here
I built the growlin' voice I fear
You add it up, but to do better than that
You've got to follow me...
And so forth.