-> "Medication Throes"
Original Song Title:
Parody Song Title:
I shall use dope, hard, makes me happy--
No pain when I pass some down
My gullet, though pallor gets paler;
Brain circuits come unwound.
Drink till I’m blind, out of commission
And prostrate is my stance.
I slam ’back till I’m tight; prostate
Can’t hold it--I’ve wet my pants.
On my diet, drugs, I’m feckless;
I need dog hair and mo’.
I’m wasted most every single night,
In medication throes.
Cerebellum seems to be queasy;
I take one of these and I smile.
I’m gonna grab a big crack rock; it
Gets me restless while
I look for opium for stoning
’cause my bong’s got seeds, ain’t beleaved.
Then someone says, “Here’s a strong taste, my friend!”
I feel relieved.
But my consciousness has left--
Then my amygadala yo-yos.
My cerebellum’s waking up,
And cerebration grows.
Now I’m gooned on stuff forbidden;
I start to turn from Jekyll, Hyde
’cause morphine is my lady;
It keeps me very satisfied.
When it comes to pain, it’s able,
I’ve a hunch, that it’s nostrum gain.
I’ve no interest in making love;
Libido’s down the drain.
Got a good samovar that’s full o’ gin--
I mean the real thing, and not “sloes.”
I’m going to have cannabis tonight;
I’ve vegetation chose’.
Now I’m feeling it, the pane of window,
And my ganglia are frayed.
It’s my twenty-second cure, they
On the table are now arrayed.
One cure’s meth, and a gigantic
Portion I now ingest.
Some profess that it is Stygian.
I don’t care, ’cause “ice” is my quest.
My glowing eyes are fixed upon,
Ogling the rainbows,
Which must mean I’m peaking;
I’ve a celebration pose.
Ein stein I hoist; it’s frothing good. . .
Faulty memory, ’cause I’m drunk--
Passed out ’bout an hour ago,
And the belt had smelt like skunk.
I look so inaccurately biteful
With my gums so slippery-wet,
Because I’d been sipping, drained rye,
Then imbibing a gallon, yet.
Next I do not drink. . .forsook the gin;
I’m off now to tame my ego.
I’m wasted in eclectic vice again--
In medication throes
It’s the fifth time that I’ve hurled
Inside of a wretched cup.
I might be rendered “patient”
If I bring way too much up.
“Needs a nurse, this boastful boozer!”
Begins to bark, a snide, uptight troll.
He’s aggrieved at all the barf that leaves
What’s termed by some “piehole.”
I’d spent all day in venting, sh!tful,
Through my rear it blows.
Gotta clear my head--black tar’s the stuff
For exca[ca]vation flows,
Or dreck-vacation woes.
White cross I eat--it’s failed, I’m certain
To get my head heady as yeast.
Fat chance I’d be poppin’ a
Pill who’s potency is decreased.
My spoon’s heating some crack, an’ over
The top it’ll take me, I’m sure.
My pill needs now consummated;
I won’t be poisoned if it’s pure.
And panting and pouting is the skin-pop girl. . .
Says, “Lout, I want some too, you know!”
Cackling ogre is screaming, pugnacious, up blowing. . .
I’ve got big fright that drug agents
Who seek stupored human crews
Come round to round up everyone,
A coke whore such as you.
And they’ll bring us to the back alley
And they’ll start from crack to wean
All us--those small white boulders--
Get our carotids clean.
Our bodies then will wrassle
With a turkey cold and slow.
So, paranoid, through windows I’m gaping;
My trepidation grows.
A Peter Nero hep tune
In my manic brain plays on.
I can’t get it out of there;
How’d this B side spawn?
I’ll get a pound of tea, yes selling it
Might not be within my power.
I shall it smoke, bingeing half, and then
Fish out the seeds from flowers.
Now clean the window, I can see
A drug deal down now goes,
Let’s go out and score some--we’ll go Dutch.
The fenestration: close.
Yes, I received the mesc here yesterday,
About a dime bag’s worth of coke
And khat leaves that’s used for chewing--
Of course, some grass to smoke.
Care’s surcease is my intention
[Be]reft of woe then, untight, tame. . .
Remain tight in the sense of wasted--
English entendres--what a shame!
Right now I don’t feel so good
Because vessels have emptied, so
Gotta fress a Quaalude lunch. . .
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