What’s that thing you’re smoking, you need to put it out
It could get us into trouble, for that there is no doubt
The druggies say we need it; the government thinks so too
But every time I take a puff, I’m coughing 'til I’m blue
It takes my mind to places; that I never thought I’d go
My imagination soaring, like a cartoon TV show
I’m much too busy thinking and my mind is having fun
Working out the details, of some internal turmoil scrum
Now we’re in more trouble, as my throat has gone bone dry
The beer will taste so darn good and should increase my high
OK, who brought in the popcorn, man that smells so good
I have no time to talk right now, I’m gorging on this food
Laughing at almost everything now, I’ll probably choke to death
And the government should feel so sorry, as I let out my last breath
They want to legalize everything, for the taxes that they make
And turn us into zombies, so it’s easier for them to take
Don Hamaliuk, St. Albert
