Parched
Stumbling dazed and disturbed I am dying
Under a scorching south sun
I've had cones and I'm stoned no sense of direction
My torment has only begun
The bong I notice still lodged in my hand
Its odious contents my only moisture
The sun it pounds me like a hammer to an anvil
I sniff the bong water, is it clear?
But its thick and putrid I gag at its odour
Texture and smell like baby shit!
I stagger confused for three days and nights
The bong water gets more attractive each day
Its foul and repulsive but finally I succumb
I must drink or die of dehydration
It keeps calling me
Drawing haunting me
Torturing me
But then I
Raise the bong to my lips and I drink
Flavour just like licking an ashtray
My stomach convulses I vomit blood and bile
I suffer massive total dehydration
I lie dying
Prune like husk
Puking crying
Killed by the bong!
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