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.