The complete lyrics - all in good time
some = all / the effluxion of time

7 Trashed

(Butler, Gillan, Iommi, Ward) From the Black Sabbath album 'Born Again'

I was drunk. Returning from the local pub in my small inflatable dinghy by way of the canal I decided to do some laps in my Ford on the small Go-Kart racetrack which Richard Branson had kindly installed at 'The Manor' (a residential studio he owns near Oxford in England). I did have a small mishap though. Clipping a pile of tyres on a previous lap, I ran over one of them on the next and was instantly flipped, skidding and spinning upside down along the road until I stopped inches short of a swimming pool. I would surely have drowned because it took me an age to release myself from the inertia seatbelt from which I was suspended. Ever safety conscious, I was lucky enough to be wearing a crash helmet. This I'd brought along with my motorbike (Ossa 250) as I was building a ramp near my tent in the grounds with the idea of jumping the lake the next morning. That never happened as I was feeling a bit rough, but I did go into the studio and write this song over a backing track written the day before by Tony, Geezer and Bill.

Trashed

(Butler, Gillan, Iommi, Ward)

It really was a meeting
The bottle took a beating
The ladies of the manor
Watched me climb into my car and
I was going down the track about a hundred and five
They had the stop-watch rolling
I had the headlights blazing I was really alive
And yet my mind was blowing
I drank a bottle of tequila and I felt real good
I had the tape deck roaring
But on the twenty fifth lap at the canal turn
I went off exploring
I knew I wouldn't make it the car just wouldn't take it
I was turning, tyres burning
The ground was in my sky
I was laughing, the bitch was trashed
And death was in my eye

I had started pretty good and I was feeling my way
I had the wheels in motion
There was Peter and the Greenfly laughing like drains
Inebriotion
The crowd was roaring I was at Brands Hatch
In my imagination
But at the canal turn I hit an oily patch
Inebriation

Ooh Mr. Miracle you saved me from some pain
I thank you Mr. Miracle I won't get trashed again
Ooh can you hear my lies
Don't you bother with this fool just laugh into my eyes

So we went back to the bar and hit the bottle again
But there was no tequila
Then we started on the whisky just to steady our brains
'Cos there was no Tequila
And as we drank a little faster at the top of our hill
We began to roll
And as we got trashed we were laughing still

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