Now listen to my tale 'bout a man named 'toe,
Poor mountaineer, always wandern' to and fro.

Then one day, while scoutin' out some loot,
Ate them magic shroomies, that godly, fleshy, fruit!

Psilocybin...
Food of the Gods, that is...

After old mantoe came a stumblin' out the fog,
People askin, "Ole Toe! How'd you get out that there bog?"

He'd just look at 'em up 'n' down 'n' say...
"I'm tripping off my balls now, so get the f**k away!"

Hallucinations...
Trails and pretty lights...

Y'all stay off my land now, y'hear!?