So odd yet so similar, a handful of smoke to die for, that my head spares a part my body. Easy in, easy out felt that every system playing a sex inside. Few grass burnt along a rolling paper gives me a treasure of trance and spirit which travel around my mind like a trip to heaven for a few seconds. Now it’s dead so I am, fallen from a dream of a day. Not my hunger away, and here I smoke, I breath…………………..a handful smoke to die…………………………………………………………….for.
