Bro, This Tastes just like Purple

I took the Blue to taste the Red, to clear this Green from out my head,

with a Yellow beige my body begged me to close the shades,

my mind was way too displayed for 4 p.m. Tuesday.

I was in search of Purple, that violent violet,

a Himalayan high for all the clever kind kids,

I grew up in a barrage of whiteness,

so I welcome colors with bright lit eyelids.

I popped a pill called "To the Nines",

with the Reds, the Blues, the Greens I liked,

with a hint of Orange, and Burgundy,

I snaked off the couch in serpentine.

That Burgundy turned a dark Maroon,

when I felt I could hardly move,

but then the Lime came in with light,

and fed me warmth to feel right.

Then in the stretch of a forever moment,

I was swimming in that Purple emotion,

I figured the cost of this joyful token,

was to hold it after I was awoken.

As soon as it hit, that moment caved in,

and inside my room, my friend Frank came in,

and about his day he was explaining,

but I was dressed to the nines and my mind was racing,

so I said, "Hey man, I hope your heart holds nothing hurtful."

He said, "What?"

So I replied, "Bro, this shit tastes just like Purple."