Paranoia

I think I'm succumbing to paranoia
Last night I was chased by a giant sequoia
This morning a fellow named Montoya
Followed me, hiding behind an uprooted soya

So distressed was I that I moved to Nagoya
Where we all rolled over and one fell off
There were seven thousand, two hundred, and eleven on the bed
And we all yelled
"Salt, salt, salt," at Jimmy Buffet, because he's old
The scene was immortalized in a painting by Goya