We like to smoke pot
We like it a lot
Our small eyes are tearing
For what we have not
The nice pipe is here
A lighter is near
I won’t become freaked out
Fear not sister dear
We miss the blue sky
It is sold we will cry
Our big mind is waning
And we now know why
We want to feel warm
Yet outside the norm
We want to be cradle-held
And then be reborn
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