I picked the ripest lemon off the tree
And I can’t even put it into words what it did to me
My lips were puckered
A pleasant looking face
It expressed my joy and the righteous feeling
Not to mention the taste
I close my eyes, count to ten and then I let it out again
I have to spread the news: It’s happening

There’s an orchard I know of full of lemons, full of love, full of drugs

I picked the ripest lemon off the tree
And then the other flavors seemed to follow almost naturally
It has a funny way of making sense
If I wasn’t such a glutton then it wouldn’t have to end
I close my eyes and count to ten and think of solid ground again
As my head pops out of thin air but no one was there

There’s an orchard I know of full of lemons, full of love, full of drugs
There’s an ocean I know of full of lemons, full of love, full of drugs

I picked the ripest lemon off the tree
Then tentacles burst from the purple sky and they were mad at me
They tore me limb from limb but I bounced back
As an army we are ready for any variety of attack
I close my eyes and count to ten, I open them and all my friends
Are screaming things beyond all means of hallucinogens

There’s an orchard I know of full of lemons, full of love, full of drugs
There’s an ocean I know of full of lemons, full of love, full of drugs