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TOOL
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Alrighty
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then,
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picture
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this,
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if
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you
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will
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10
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to
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2
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a.m.,
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X,
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Yogi
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DMT
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and
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a
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box
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of
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Krispy
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Kremes
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In
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my
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need-
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to-
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know
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post
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just
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outside
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of
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Area
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51
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Contemplating
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the
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whole
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"Chosen
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People"
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thingy
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When
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just
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a
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flaming
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stealth
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banana
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split
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the
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sky
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Like
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one
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would
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hope,
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but
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never
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TOOL
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really
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expect
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to
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see
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in
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a
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place
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like
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this
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Cutting
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right
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angle
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donuts
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on
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a
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dime
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And
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stopping
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right
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on
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my
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Birkenstocks,
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and
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me
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yelping
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"Holy
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fucking
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shit!" (x8)
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Then
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the
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X-Files
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being
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looking
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like
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some
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kind
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of
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blue-
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green
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Jackie
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Chan
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with
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Isabella
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Rossellini
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lips
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And
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breath
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that
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reeked
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of
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vanilla
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Chig
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TOOL
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Champa
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Did
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a
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slo-mo
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Matrix
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descent
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out
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of
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the
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butt-end
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of
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the
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banana
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vessel
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And
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hovered
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above
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my
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bug-eyes,
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my
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gaping
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jaw
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My
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sweaty
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L. Ron Hubbard
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upper
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lip
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and
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all
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I
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could
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think
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was
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"I
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hope
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Uncle
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Martin
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here
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doesn't
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notice
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that
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I
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pissed
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my
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fucking
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pants!"
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So
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light
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in
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his
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way,
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like
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TOOL
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an
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apparition
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He
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had
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me
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crying
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out
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"Fuck
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me,
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it's
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gotta
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be
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The
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Deadhead
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Chemistry
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The
|
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blotter
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got
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right
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|
on
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|
top
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of
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me
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Got
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me
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seeing
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E-motherfucking-T!"
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And
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after
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calming
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me
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down
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with
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some
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Orange
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slices
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and
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some
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fetal
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spooning
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E.T.
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revealed
|
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to
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me
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his
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singular
|
|
purpose
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He
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said,
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"You
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are
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The
|
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TOOL
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Chosen
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One
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The
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|
One
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who'll
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deliver
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the
|
|
message
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A
|
|
message
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of
|
|
hope
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for
|
|
those
|
|
who
|
|
choose
|
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to
|
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hear
|
|
it
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|
And
|
|
a
|
|
warning
|
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for
|
|
those
|
|
who
|
|
do
|
|
not"
|
|
Me,
|
|
The
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Chosen
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|
One?
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They
|
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chose
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|
me!
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And
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|
I
|
|
didn't
|
|
graduate
|
|
from
|
|
fuckin'
|
|
high
|
|
school
|
|
You
|
|
better (x4)
|
|
listen
|
|
Then
|
|
he
|
|
looked
|
|
right
|
|
through
|
|
me
|
|
with
|
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|
TOOL
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somniferous
|
|
almond
|
|
eyes
|
|
Don't
|
|
even
|
|
know
|
|
what
|
|
that
|
|
means,
|
|
must
|
|
remember
|
|
to
|
|
write
|
|
it
|
|
down
|
|
This
|
|
is
|
|
so
|
|
real,
|
|
like
|
|
the
|
|
time
|
|
Dave
|
|
floated
|
|
away
|
|
See,
|
|
my
|
|
heart
|
|
is
|
|
pounding
|
|
'cause
|
|
this
|
|
shit
|
|
never
|
|
happens
|
|
to
|
|
me
|
|
Can't
|
|
breathe
|
|
right
|
|
now,
|
|
it
|
|
was
|
|
so
|
|
real
|
|
Like
|
|
I
|
|
woke
|
|
up
|
|
in
|
|
Wonderland,
|
|
all
|
|
|
TOOL
|
|
sort
|
|
of
|
|
terrifying
|
|
I
|
|
don't
|
|
wanna
|
|
be
|
|
all
|
|
alone
|
|
when
|
|
I
|
|
tell
|
|
this
|
|
story
|
|
And
|
|
can
|
|
anyone
|
|
tell
|
|
me
|
|
why
|
|
you
|
|
all
|
|
sound
|
|
like
|
|
Peanuts
|
|
parents?
|
|
Will
|
|
I
|
|
ever
|
|
be
|
|
coming
|
|
down?
|
|
This
|
|
is
|
|
so
|
|
real,
|
|
finally,
|
|
it's
|
|
my
|
|
lucky
|
|
day
|
|
See,
|
|
my
|
|
heart
|
|
is
|
|
racing
|
|
'cause
|
|
this
|
|
shit
|
|
never
|
|
happens
|
|
to
|
|
|
TOOL
|
|
me
|
|
Can't
|
|
breathe
|
|
right
|
|
now
|
|
You
|
|
believe
|
|
me,
|
|
don't
|
|
you?
|
|
Please
|
|
believe
|
|
what
|
|
I
|
|
just
|
|
said
|
|
See,
|
|
The
|
|
Dead
|
|
ain't
|
|
touring
|
|
and
|
|
this
|
|
wasn't
|
|
all
|
|
in
|
|
my
|
|
head
|
|
See,
|
|
they
|
|
took
|
|
me
|
|
by
|
|
the
|
|
hand
|
|
and
|
|
invited
|
|
me
|
|
right
|
|
in
|
|
Then
|
|
they
|
|
showed
|
|
me
|
|
something,
|
|
I
|
|
don't
|
|
even
|
|
know
|
|
where
|
|
to
|
|
begin
|
|