Ever since I had no lung joy,
I smoked a pack a day.
From Marlboro down to Winston,
I thought it was OK.
Cause all the athletes smoked ‘em,
Then went to play some ball.
That ref, ump and line judge
all smoked the green menthol.

I live with a patch now,
Becomes part of my lifestyle.
Before I went cold turkey,
I tried smack for a while.
They pay for my condition,
the makers of Pall Mall .
But that ref, ump and line judge
still smoke the green menthol.

It’s a menthol blizzard,
There’s got to be a cyst.
A menthol blizzard
Looks just like someone pissed.

How am I supposed to breathe now?
(I don’t know)
What makes them so good?

I ain’t buying no more cigarettes,
Won’t pay the excise tax.
At forty bucks a carton,
to clog my lungs with plaques.
Gonna sue the tobacco bigwigs,
Will watch them slowly fall.
But that ref, ump and line judge
still smoke the green menthol.

I thought I had
the only yellow smile.
Then tried bleach strips,
For that I’d walk a mile.

So here’s the happy ending,
I don’t smoke at all.
My disciples I’m defending
With their backs against the wall.
I’m now an overeater,
Who’s purging at the stall.
But that ref, ump and line judge
still smoke the green menthol.