(instrumental break)

I'm coming home, I've done my time.
Though I don't think what I did's such a crime.
I'll soon be feeling better
with my leafy jubilee.
And I just found the guy I know
who sells it so cheaply.
So what is next for me?

I fly with mellow rhythm of the gold toke tree.
It's been three long years.
Feels so good to me.
I fly with mellow rhythm of the gold toke tree.
That puff of the pot
it sure hits the spot
and puts the high on me.
I love to fly with mellow rhythm of
(of)
the gold toke tree.

Bus driver, no thanks on that speed.
And coca powder, that's not what I need.
Some guys I knew in prison
they'd been dealing Ecstasy.
And if the Sixties taught me
anything, it's this, you see:
Don't take no LSD!

I fly with mellow rhythm of the gold toke tree.
It beats three long beers.
Feels so good to me.
I fly with mellow rhythm of the gold toke tree.
That puff of the pot
it sure hits the spot
and puts the high on me.
I love to fly with mellow rhythm of
(of)
the gold toke tree.

(instrumental break)

Now the whole damn buzz is fading
and I can't believe I see
a hundred guns of officers here from
(from)
N.Y.P.D.!
I can't stay home!

(Fly with rhythm of the gold toke tree!)
(Fly with rhythm of the gold toke tree!)
(Fly with rhythm of the gold toke tree!)
(Fly with rhythm of the gold toke tree!)
(repeat 'til fade)