Phish :: Junta : Fluffhead Lyrics

Fluffhead was a man
With a horrible disease
Could not find no cure
Won't you help him if you please?

Fluff came to my door / Fluff came to New York (two parts)
Askin' me for change
His eyes were clear and pure
But his mind was so deranged

Fluff went to a banker
Askin' for some bills
The banker said, "I ain't got that
But I sure got some powerful pills."