The Pot Farmer

I got out my pipe and stuffed it with pot, You better believe, it held a whole lot. I whipped out a lighter and thumbed up a flame, Then sucked down that smoke which comforts my brain. I tried alcohol; and smoked cigarettes, Though, they did nothing, but give me regrets. My mom had arthritis and couldn't walk around. When I rolled her a joint, she danced on the ground. I thought I was losing my lovemaking knack, But, after I smoked some, to me it came back. Soon I decided prices were too high, So I searched for some ground I wouldn't have to buy. I bargained for seeds from smokers all around, Then, got in my truck and drove out of town. I walked through the woods where the wild birds nest, And found me the meadow I thought was the best. I dug up the ground and sowed all my seeds; Then said a small prayer for strong, healthy weeds. I watered at night with a five-gallon pail; The mosquitoes went hungry for I wore a veil. Eight months went by; I thought I would die, 'Till the Halloween moon was high in the sky. One night I went out, in my camouflage suit, And used a corn knife to chop down the loot. I hung it up to dry where it couldn't be found. Then came back and got it, when it had turned brown. I trimmed off the buds, and stuffed them in bags, Called all my friends and passed out free drags. In less then a week, my crop was gone! But, I flew to St. Thomas with love-hungry blond.