This bares repeating
He was a great young man
Beautiful wife and two children
He had few vices
One he had was smoking chains
Or is that Chain smoking?
I remember the day I asked him
Reformed smokers make strange friends,
"Have you thought about giving up smoking?"
He cleared his voice with a hacking cough
"I have tried but I love the taste!"
Two years later he was on his 22nd surgery
They were rebuilding his lungs
The irony they were using tissue from his stomach
But he ended up with only the taste of death
And that high you must feel
For in the devil's throne you kneel
Is just a weed plucked from his own garden
For as it flames the brain and goes up in smoke
It is no longer the devils weeds but leavings of a dope