For me, this song will always take me back to a New Year's Eve 1983-84 Boulder House Party that me and Kevin and Kurt and Jeff threw; some people we worked with and a bunch of people who knew people who knew people showed up and Ace grabbed the big mirror from the wall in the hallway and took it downstairs and laid it on the Ping-Pong table and started putting lines on it and someone brought in two cases of booze and I started mixing up blenders and pitchers of drinks that were color-coded; pink was rum-based, yellow was whiskey, green was vodka...the kitchen looked like a Picasso in progress...We were all baked on some very potent sinsemilla skunk, and Kevin and I were already shrooming pretty good, and Season of the Witch was on the turntable downstairs and everyone could hear it, even the next door neighbors; then Ace came and persuaded us to go and look into the mirror and things were pretty groovy and UP there for a bit and then Kevin convinced me that maybe we should eat another shroom or two so we did, and SOMEONE PUT THAT SONG ON AGAIN, and then Syd, my Siamese cat, looked me in the eye, took me into my room and made it clear to me in no uncertain terms that this time I had really gone too far; there was maybe no coming down at all this time, and I admit, I was beginning to think that he was right, and I felt almost about to call my mom or something — you know how shrooms can be at the peak of the scary rushy sneak right up and unravel your mind kinda thing they do — and then it sounded like there was an incredible car crash somewhere outside; some terrible thud and skid and wildly racing engine and then — nothing, and not long after, there were gunshots, and they seemed to be right outside — HOLY SHIT! and when I looked out the window there were flashing red lights and cops running around — HOLY SHIT! and a knock on the door called me to be The Dad and certainly no one else wanted to and everyone ran downstairs so I opened it and this guy I had once worked with and who I hadn't seen in a year said he'd totaled his truck against a huge 6-point buck and was asking me if he could use my phone to call a tow truck and I said, "Hey man, we're having a party, come on in," and then the two cops who'd shot the dang thing came over and I was TOTALLY DOWN, you know — the adrenaline was presently keeping everything totally at bay — and so I was talking with them and they said a crew would be along soon to pick up the road kill and I was like, Whoah, what do they DO with it? and they said it goes to prisons, schools, hospitals and such, and I said, Whoah, and then I noticed that elements of The Trip were bleeding back into my bloodstream and synapses, and Season of the Witch was blasting away on Jeff's massive stereo and the cops never said a word about it; it seemed perfectly apropos and as Natural as could be, and then I stared and saw the blood-stains begin to undulate upon the snow, and the sad glassy eyes of the huge deer in the yard were going cloudy and dull, and wow, the crumpled bloody metal and shattered glass of the dented and totaled truck seemed to be screaming and groaning something at me, and the flashing red lights of the cop car were bathing it all in the most disturbing Sabbath Bloody Sabbath tones and I was thinking again that I was in all probability actually about to really freaking lose it, for sure! but just then a squawk comes over the radio of the cop car and they go running over and sit and squawk back for a minute or two and then come running back and say there was an accident up on The Hill so they have to go but the road kill people would be along shortly and they jumped in their car and took off as fast as the snow and ice allowed and then this guy, who said he was Alan Fogelberg — cousin to Dan, the famous singer, he said — who was wearing a hippie-cowboy hat and a buck knife said, "Hell, let's tree it, bleed it, skin it, 'n' cut it up into bite-sized pieces!" and I said, "Let's get some help," so we went downstairs and told everyone they could come out of hiding and it took quite a team of us to drag that beast around to the apple tree in the backyard, but we did it, and, feeling impervious to the cold, I dug out and put on the scrubs I’d worn for the previous Halloween Mall Crawl, grabbed my best Henckels Chef's Knife, and joined Alan out back and when all was said and done one leg was jelly so we tossed it but the rest became steaks, kabobs, and stews for weeks, and I tanned the skin with rock salt and kept the antlers and put them on the Native American Wall by the fireplace of every place I lived in after that until I moved to Japan in summer of '88 and that was when I tried to give them to Kevin but he didn't want them because by then he was getting divorced from the gal he met THAT NIGHT AT THAT PARTY and married and made a baby with, and to this day whenever I hear this infinitely trippy song from The Original Sunshine Superman, who I saw at the Rainbow Theater a year after his song framed my party, my mind goes back in all directions to that wild and crazy night...

The one thing left unanswered about this song is whether or not I need to pick up every stitch. I really wish this matter had been addressed in the lyrics.

Have always loved the way he says those first 6 words, "When. I. Look. Out. My. Window". Something so British Empire about it (for a kid from Glasgow). Not sure what I mean, but, yeah. He probably would have been considered more like Dylan if he didn't look like Micky Dolenz, lol.

a lot

For me, this song will always take me back to a New Year's Eve 1983-84 Boulder House Party that me and Kevin and Kurt and Jeff threw; some people we worked with and a bunch of people who knew people who knew people showed up and Ace grabbed the big mirror from the wall in the hallway and took it downstairs and laid it on the Ping-Pong table and started putting lines on it and someone brought in two cases of booze and I started mixing up blenders and pitchers of drinks that were color-coded; pink was rum-based, yellow was whiskey, green was vodka...the kitchen looked like a Picasso in progress...We were all baked on some very potent sinsemilla skunk, and Kevin and I were already shrooming pretty good, and Season of the Witch was on the turntable downstairs and everyone could hear it, even the next door neighbors, then Ace came and persuaded us to go and look into the mirror and things were pretty groovy and UP there for a bit and then Kevin convinced me that maybe we should eat another shroom or two so we did, and SOMEONE PUT THAT SONG ON AGAIN, and then Syd, my Siamese cat, looked me in the eye, took me into my room and made it clear to me in no uncertain terms that this time I had really gone too far; there was maybe no coming down at all this time, and I admit, I was beginning to think that he was right, and I felt almost about to call my mom or something — you know how shrooms can be at the peak of the scary rushy sneak right up and unravel your mind kinda thing they do — and then it sounded like there was an incredible car crash somewhere outside; some terrible thud and skid and wildly racing engine and then — nothing, and not long after, there were gunshots, and they seemed to be right outside — HOLY SHIT! and when I looked out the window there were flashing red lights and cops running around — HOLY SHIT! and a knock on the door called me to be The Dad and certainly no one else wanted to and everyone ran downstairs so I opened it and this guy I had once worked with and who I hadn't seen in a year said he'd totaled his truck against a huge 6-point buck and was asking me if he could use my phone to call a tow truck and I said, "Hey man, we're having a party, come on in," and then the two cops who'd shot the dang thing came over and I was TOTALLY DOWN, you know — the adrenaline was presently keeping everything totally at bay — and so I was talking with them and they said a crew would be along soon to pick up the road kill and I was like, Whoah, what do they DO with it? and they said it goes to prisons, schools, hospitals and such, and I said, Whoah, and then I noticed that elements of The Trip were bleeding back into my bloodstream and synapses, and Season of the Witch was blasting away on Jeff's massive stereo and the cops never said a word about it; it seemed perfectly apropos and as Natural as could be, and then I stared and saw the blood-stains begin to undulate upon the snow, and the sad glassy eyes of the huge deer in the yard were going cloudy and dull, and wow, the crumpled bloody metal and shattered glass of the dented and totaled truck seemed to be screaming and groaning something at me, and the flashing red lights of the cop car were bathing it all in the most disturbing Sabbath Bloody Sabbath tones and I was thinking again that I was in all probability actually about to really freaking lose it, for sure! but just then a squawk comes over the radio of the cop car and they go running over and sit and squawk back for a minute or two and then come running back and say there was an accident up on The Hill so they have to go but the road kill people would be along shortly and they jumped in their car and took off as fast as the snow and ice allowed and then this guy, who said he was Alan Fogelberg — cousin to Dan, the famous singer, he said — who was wearing a hippie-cowboy hat and a buck knife said, "Hell, let's tree it, bleed it, skin it, 'n' cut it up into bite-sized pieces!" and I said, "Let's get some help," so we went downstairs and told everyone they could come out of hiding and it took quite a team of us to drag that beast around to the apple tree in the backyard, but we did it, and, feeling impervious to the cold, I dug out and put on the scrubs I’d worn for the previous Halloween Mall Crawl, grabbed my best Henckels Chef's Knife, and joined Alan out back and when all was said and done one leg was jelly so we tossed it but the rest became steaks, kabobs, and stews for weeks, and I tanned the skin with rock salt and kept the antlers and put them on the Native American Wall by the fireplace of every place I lived in after that until I moved to Japan in summer of '88 and that was when I tried to give them to Kevin but he didn't want them because by then he was getting divorced from the gal he met THAT NIGHT AT THAT PARTY and married and made a baby with, and to this day whenever I hear this infinitely trippy song from The Original Sunshine Superman, who I saw at the Rainbow Theater a year after his song framed my party, my mind goes back in all directions to that wild and crazy night...

For me, this song will always take me back to a New Year's Eve 1983-84 Boulder House Party that me and Kevin and Kurt and Jeff threw; some people we worked with and a bunch of people who knew people who knew people showed up and Ace grabbed the big mirror from the wall in the hallway and took it downstairs and laid it on the Ping-Pong table and started putting lines on it and someone brought in two cases of booze and I started mixing up blenders and pitchers of drinks that were color-coded; pink was rum-based, yellow was whiskey, green was vodka...the kitchen looked like a Picasso in progress...We were all baked on some very potent sinsemilla skunk, and Kevin and I were already shrooming pretty good, and Season of the Witch was on the turntable downstairs and everyone could hear it, even the next door neighbors, then Ace came and persuaded us to go and look into the mirror and things were pretty groovy and UP there for a bit and then Kevin convinced me that maybe we should eat another shroom or two so we did, and SOMEONE PUT THAT SONG ON AGAIN, and then Syd, my Siamese cat, looked me in the eye, took me into my room and made it clear to me in no uncertain terms that this time I had really gone too far; there was maybe no coming down at all this time, and I admit, I was beginning to think that he was right, and I felt almost about to call my mom or something — you know how shrooms can be at the peak of the scary rushy sneak right up and unravel your mind kinda thing they do — and then it sounded like there was an incredible car crash somewhere outside; some terrible thud and skid and wildly racing engine and then — nothing, and not long after, there were gunshots, and they seemed to be right outside — HOLY SHIT! and when I looked out the window there were flashing red lights and cops running around — HOLY SHIT! and a knock on the door called me to be The Dad and certainly no one else wanted to and everyone ran downstairs so I opened it and this guy I had once worked with and who I hadn't seen in a year said he'd totaled his truck against a huge 6-point buck and was asking me if he could use my phone to call a tow truck and I said, "Hey man, we're having a party, come on in," and then the two cops who'd shot the dang thing came over and I was TOTALLY DOWN, you know — the adrenaline was presently keeping everything totally at bay — and so I was talking with them and they said a crew would be along soon to pick up the road kill and I was like, Whoah, what do they DO with it? and they said it goes to prisons, schools, hospitals and such, and I said, Whoah, and then I noticed that elements of The Trip were bleeding back into my bloodstream and synapses, and Season of the Witch was blasting away on Jeff's massive stereo and the cops never said a word about it; it seemed perfectly apropos and as Natural as could be, and then I stared and saw the blood-stains begin to undulate upon the snow, and the sad glassy eyes of the huge deer in the yard were going cloudy and dull, and wow, the crumpled bloody metal and shattered glass of the dented and totaled truck seemed to be screaming and groaning something at me, and the flashing red lights of the cop car were bathing it all in the most disturbing Sabbath Bloody Sabbath tones and I was thinking again that I was in all probability actually about to really freaking lose it, for sure! but just then a squawk comes over the radio of the cop car and they go running over and sit and squawk back for a minute or two and then come running back and say there was an accident up on The Hill so they have to go but the road kill people would be along shortly and they jumped in their car and took off as fast as the snow and ice allowed and then this guy, who said he was Alan Fogelberg — cousin to Dan, the famous singer, he said — who was wearing a hippie-cowboy hat and a buck knife said, "Hell, let's tree it, bleed it, skin it, 'n' cut it up into bite-sized pieces!" and I said, "Let's get some help," so we went downstairs and told everyone they could come out of hiding and it took quite a team of us to drag that beast around to the apple tree in the backyard, but we did it, and, feeling impervious to the cold, I dug out and put on the scrubs I’d worn for the previous Halloween Mall Crawl, grabbed my best Henckels Chef's Knife, and joined Alan out back and when all was said and done one leg was jelly so we tossed it but the rest became steaks, kabobs, and stews for weeks, and I tanned the skin with rock salt and kept the antlers and put them on the Native American Wall by the fireplace of every place I lived in after that until I moved to Japan in summer of '88 and that was when I tried to give them to Kevin but he didn't want them because by then he was getting divorced from the gal he met THAT NIGHT AT THAT PARTY and married and made a baby with, and to this day whenever I hear this infinitely trippy song from The Original Sunshine Superman, who I saw at the Rainbow Theater a year after his song framed my party, my mind goes back in all directions to that wild and crazy night...

For me, this song will always take me back to a New Year's Eve 1983-84 Boulder House Party that me and Kevin and Kurt and Jeff threw; some people we worked with and a bunch of people who knew people who knew people showed up and Ace grabbed the big mirror from the wall in the hallway and took it downstairs and laid it on the Ping-Pong table and started putting lines on it and someone brought in two cases of booze and I started mixing up blenders and pitchers of drinks that were color-coded; pink was rum-based, yellow was whiskey, green was vodka...the kitchen looked like a Picasso in progress...We were all baked on some very potent sinsemilla skunk, and Kevin and I were already shrooming pretty good, and Season of the Witch was on the turntable downstairs and everyone could hear it, even the next door neighbors, then Ace came and persuaded us to go and look into the mirror and things were pretty groovy and UP there for a bit and then Kevin convinced me that maybe we should eat another shroom or two so we did, and SOMEONE PUT THAT SONG ON AGAIN, and then Syd, my Siamese cat, looked me in the eye, took me into my room and made it clear to me in no uncertain terms that this time I had really gone too far; there was maybe no coming down at all this time, and I admit, I was beginning to think that he was right, and I felt almost about to call my mom or something — you know how shrooms can be at the peak of the scary rushy sneak right up and unravel your mind kinda thing they do — and then it sounded like there was an incredible car crash somewhere outside; some terrible thud and skid and wildly racing engine and then — nothing, and not long after, there were gunshots, and they seemed to be right outside — HOLY SHIT! and when I looked out the window there were flashing red lights and cops running around — HOLY SHIT! and a knock on the door called me to be The Dad and certainly no one else wanted to and everyone ran downstairs so I opened it and this guy I had once worked with and who I hadn't seen in a year said he'd totaled his truck against a huge 6-point buck and was asking me if he could use my phone to call a tow truck and I said, "Hey man, we're having a party, come on in," and then the two cops who'd shot the dang thing came over and I was TOTALLY DOWN, you know — the adrenaline was presently keeping everything totally at bay — and so I was talking with them and they said a crew would be along soon to pick up the road kill and I was like, Whoah, what do they DO with it? and they said it goes to prisons, schools, hospitals and such, and I said, Whoah, and then I noticed that elements of The Trip were bleeding back into my bloodstream and synapses, and Season of the Witch was blasting away on Jeff's massive stereo and the cops never said a word about it; it seemed perfectly apropos and as Natural as could be, and then I stared and saw the blood-stains begin to undulate upon the snow, and the sad glassy eyes of the huge deer in the yard were going cloudy and dull, and wow, the crumpled bloody metal and shattered glass of the dented and totaled truck seemed to be screaming and groaning something at me, and the flashing red lights of the cop car were bathing it all in the most disturbing Sabbath Bloody Sabbath tones and I was thinking again that I was in all probability actually about to really freaking lose it, for sure! but just then a squawk comes over the radio of the cop car and they go running over and sit and squawk back for a minute or two and then come running back and say there was an accident up on The Hill so they have to go but the road kill people would be along shortly and they jumped in their car and took off as fast as the snow and ice allowed and then this guy, who said he was Alan Fogelberg — cousin to Dan, the famous singer, he said — who was wearing a hippie-cowboy hat and a buck knife said, "Hell, let's tree it, bleed it, skin it, 'n' cut it up into bite-sized pieces!" and I said, "Let's get some help," so we went downstairs and told everyone they could come out of hiding and it took quite a team of us to drag that beast around to the apple tree in the backyard, but we did it, and, feeling impervious to the cold, I dug out and put on the scrubs I’d worn for the previous Halloween Mall Crawl, grabbed my best Henckels Chef's Knife, and joined Alan out back and when all was said and done one leg was jelly so we tossed it but the rest became steaks, kabobs, and stews for weeks, and I tanned the skin with rock salt and kept the antlers and put them on the Native American Wall by the fireplace of every place I lived in after that until I moved to Japan in summer of '88 and that was when I tried to give them to Kevin but he didn't want them because by then he was getting divorced from the gal he met THAT NIGHT AT THAT PARTY and married and made a baby with, and to this day whenever I hear this infinitely trippy song from The Original Sunshine Superman, who I saw at the Rainbow Theater a year after his song framed my party, my mind goes back in all directions to that wild and crazy night...

See original (very long) post.

See original (very long) post.

I would love to have heard The Doors cover this. It sounds like it was written for them.