Petes Poetry
Get off the grass
The brain and its wonder
The spiritual realm, above and under
Just get your head straight.
Medicine in all its glory, the love of hate.
Drug me the answer to your unique individuality.
I'll try to fit you in, society and morality.
Conform yet expand
Now in the form of a brand.
Don't forget and remember not to tell.
For two thirds of a dollar, brings never ending hell.
This man is sick, sick, sick.
The answer stab, jab, prick.
The tactics of a tack.
Pin me, It's better than smoking crack.
Fund me, deal me, addict me to your chemical form.
But never get on the grass, when you are on the lawn.
By Peter Riddoch.
The spiritual realm, above and under
Just get your head straight.
Medicine in all its glory, the love of hate.
Drug me the answer to your unique individuality.
I'll try to fit you in, society and morality.
Conform yet expand
Now in the form of a brand.
Don't forget and remember not to tell.
For two thirds of a dollar, brings never ending hell.
This man is sick, sick, sick.
The answer stab, jab, prick.
The tactics of a tack.
Pin me, It's better than smoking crack.
Fund me, deal me, addict me to your chemical form.
But never get on the grass, when you are on the lawn.
By Peter Riddoch.
