Every day is fry day
Dazing in the haze
Chronic is her tonic
She loves her hippy ways
She’s cuckoo for the puff
That sticky stinky stuff
She’ll never get enough
She’s cuckoo for the puff
She’s never gonna cope
Without an eighth of dope
The Nirvana she has found
Is growing in the ground
She’s cuckoo for the puff
That sticky stinky stuff
She’ll never get enough
She’s cuckoo for the puff
Blissful waves of blasting
Unplugging from it all
She’d rather hug a tree
Than take another call
She’s cuckoo for the puff
That sticky stinky stuff
She’ll never get enough
She’s cuckoo for the puff
by Richard W. Bray
Laughter hope sock in the eye's Blog 