I'm Turning Into John Whiteside Parsons

Every day I feel him creeping
Seeping in my psyche
I'm turning into Whiteside Parsons
I'm turning into Whiteside Parsons

Incantations, secret spells
are being scrawled and hoped for
We all want something more
and madness is on sale in store

I'm turning into Whiteside Parsons
My bombs exploding dandy
Rockets shooting to the stars
I'm debonnaire and randy
I'm slowly making methods for
a life of fantasy
A little bit of magic here
makes Jack feel loved and happy

Every day I feel his whisper
tantalise my ear
I'm turning into Whiteside Parsons
I'm turning into Whiteside Parsons

Is it
Something I should fear?
Perhaps my destiny is near?
Perhaps the moon's within my grasp, at last
And the universe is vast
perhaps there's room
inside his tomb
for two

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.