MS (9th Nov 1963 / London SE13)

Thinking Of Drugs?

Pain is all around us,
People stagger, and they fall,
Though drugs supplied like peppermints,
Do no good at all.

“Have you got a fix mate? ”
Or,
” Have you any pills? ”
These are the questions,
They’re asking still.
They want to escape the boredom,
Leave behind the gloom,
Dance upon the chimney tops,
Fly to the moon.

They fill their veins with needles,
Get high sniffing glue,
Is that what you really want
To become of you?
OK so pain is all around us,
Though listen to my call,
Drugs supplied like peppermints,
Do no good at all.

Your face will become spotty,
Your body like a shell,
You’ll lose the will to live,
Be in hospital for a spell.

A nurse will have to wash you,
And of course you will be fed,
Though, you may not wake up,
In the morning,
‘Cos sorry son, you’re dead!

Yes, pain is all around us,
Though, again, listen to my call,
Drugs supplied like peppermints,
Do no good at all!

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