Is it okay to go through life,
Wanting nothing more than a hit off a pipe?
Like the thick morning fog rolling in,
From my mouth you see the thick smoke billowing.
Look through the lens into my mind,
And you’ll see a kaleidoscope of many lows, and many highs.
Sounds are more crisp, colors more vivid,
Maybe the only reason I’ll spark the lighter and hit it,
Is cause with this life I am livid.
Might as well spend the rest of the day,
Soaring through the clouds bringing down planes.
Some say its weakness, some say it’s a phase,
If so like a bright full moon my mind will once again be in this haze.