Roachweed
This is the chorus: Roachweed
Never tastes the same as it did the first time around
Never stays lit, smells like an oil spill
Makes your lungs hurt from the very first hit
Although the reasons for smoking it are sound
Such as
Concentrated THC form many highs
From when it was just getting’ good
And was snuffed out prematurely
Surely, if you can stomach the taste
And are against needless waste
You’ll agree with me
Roachweed
Gets you through them hard times
Except if you’re a spoiled wuss
In which case fuck you
Who let you in here
Get the fuck out
You fucken loser—an abuser
Of resources
That don’t come so easy
To many of my friends—Roachweed
Spurious reports from the far right
Medical experts in the field
Have mentioned it’s a hazard
To inhale burning matter
As if to say, God doesn’t smoke
Well, what’s a fucken volcano?
God smokin’, that’s what, and let
Me tell you He takes big hits
And holds them in
A LONG FUCKIN TIME, OK?
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.