All my religious beliefs are Sublime.

Awake.  
Baked.  
Stoned  
and alone  
with my thoughts  
which resulted from  
a non-aggressive  
adolescent  
marijuana   
extravaganza in my home  
and no matter where I roam  
these concrete  
tread marks  
lead me home.  
They're all I know  
because this compass had bestowed me  
with misguided misdirection  
an infection of the streets  
tell me 
exactly 
where to meet  
or I get lost  
caught  
in a thunder clap of thoughts.  
We will have to  
turn around  
before this storm hits  
we are home ward bound  
and I know realize what it is  
that you've been singing  
"Lovin is all I got, remember that"   
and in fact  
it is the simple  
key to living  
while we're still breathing  
turn up the Sublime  
because  
"Lovin is all we got"  
and we're doing  
just fine.