Meet Jonny sitting on the green grass
Smoking his lonely heart away
His life consists of puff-puff-pass
He can’t see past the tears in his eyes,
The bowl in his hand,
Or his lonely cries
His poetic lines may fool you but they’re not fooling me
Because I can see the sadness
Behind their hidden mystery
His heart means well but his brain will slowly rot
To the tune of a life gone to waste
All because of a little thing called pot
It’s not too late to turn around
To reverse the cycle and seemingly inevitable outcome
If only you could hear the sound
Of his coughs and his cries and his lies
Then you’d know that it’s changing him
Into a person you simply can no longer recognize