Lyrics
When I pop up in the future
And I'm living off of pills and paste
And I pop up in the cockpit
And I'm dodging all the cosmic waste
I'm a number in a convoy
I'm an orphan of a dying sun
And I'm following directions
The coordinate of Mushroom One
I've been drinking in the plasma
Supernatural in the pastel moon
Been administered a dosing
From a Nommo with an astral boon
Find the vital information
That we sent you in a mushroom spore
A cryptic invitation
Should be growing on a dirty floor
