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Kicking The Weed

It’s easy, Kate, to kick the weed

It’s really no big deal

I did it back in ’72

But I know how you feel.


First stay away from matches

Plus lighters and each flame

When hanging unlit from your mouth

No ciggy tastes the same.


You could try sticky patches

Or even Nicotell

But why not think of dog ends

And that Godawful smell.


Your hair won’t reek of ashtrays

Your breath won’t pong of smoke

You’ll lose that hacking morning cough

You won’t be quite so broke.


Goodbye to Capstan Full strength

Farewell to Marlborough Light

You won’t leave smould’ring ashes

When off to bed each night.


No more those teeth of yellow

No more those fingers brown

No more those packs inside your bag

When you go on the town.


Your lungs will fill with fresh air

Sweet scents will greet your nose

You’ll know the joy of violets

And the Old English rose.


You never will look baccy

A new path lies ahead

You’re adding more years to your life

Not getting sooner dead.







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