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Oct 2014
Those that smoke dope,
shove coke up their nose,
the crack heads
the smack heads,
the dreams of a horse, Ketamin of course
the acid droppers,
speed freaks,
amphetamine fuelled droolers,
the tin foil sniffers,
black bombers and eggs and all of it begs for attention,
not to mention,
poppers and
the coppers, who'll pick you,
the dogs that will sniff you out of the crowd,
the loud ones.the proud ones,
the dealers and stealers,
they'll nick you and stick you
behind cast iron bars.

No more twenty pound deals
no more chillin' in wheels
no more girls on your arm,just
the sensuous balm of
**** pots and stale air
and care worn faces.

It's
no place to be and
jail's not for me.

This lunatic nation bent
on self medication is slowly
shifting its feet,
When the comatose know
there's no where else they can go
they wake.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
645
     victoria, ryn and Elizabeth Squires
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