What you think in the night, night, night, the hammer beats the drum, isn't that right? What you're thinking in the night, night, night, a hammer beats a drum, isn't that right? Ah my hands are slipping, O my hands are slipping on the rope. Escaping into screens, escaping into a cloud of smoke. I had a mailbox. I had my name. Since they knocked it flat it hasn't been the same. The dream is over, move out to Scappoose. Keep running my tongue over my chipped tooth. Oh my mind is slipping. Oh my hands are slipping on the rope. Escaping into screens, escaping into a cloud of smoke. I'm on the hook again, on the chain again. I'm feeling sick again, in the drink again. You wanna talk to my mind, you wanna talk to my mind, you wanna talk to my mind?