Cifra Club

The Fiends That Come To Steal The Weed Of The Deceased

Cannabis Corpse

Ainda não temos a cifra desta música.

On a cold slab growing cold in my morgue
Two stoners dead from asphyxiation
An experiment in smoking marijuana gone wrong
Led them to choke on the smoke
I'm sure they thought they could handle it
A 40 ft bong packed with an ounce
Their heads blew off
In my profession I've seen a lot of things
But nothing quite like this
But nothing like this

Searching through their pockets
I hit the jackpot
I pull out a small bag of herb
I stare at all the crystal covered buds
A maddening craving begins to take over
I must taste for myself
The lethal cheeba that brought these young stoners demise
I roll a small joint
The moment the smoke enters my lungs
I lose all sense of reality
Have I now gone crazy?

Strange colors and shapes unlike anything I have ever seen
Make me fall to the floor in a quivering heap
Thoughts and sensations so strange I fear I have gone insane
Am I dead Am I alive?

Panic overtakes me I want this torture to end
I grab a nearby scalpel and ram it into my neck
My white lab coat is quickly turning to red
My sweet release is coming soon when I am dead
When I am dead
When I am dead

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