Apology Of The Thai Drug Runner

Drugs are fucking fun, pal:

Factor that fucking in

To your Drug O-fucking-fensive

Type health fucking warnin'.

There ain't a lot that's fun, pal:

Old age, and school, and dreams

Of a life that will never be;

Sexless nights; wasted schemes;

Your horizon still receding,

Speeding hope that's fruitless;

A sudden cliff; and skidding;

Then descent to twisted rest.

The Sacred Temple of the Emerald Buddha -

Serene and total peace.

I could'a stayed at home, pal,

And lived a joyless life -

But where the fuck's the fun in that?

Superannuation, wife -

The whole fucking package?!

For me, it never suited.

A softcock life and limp death?

Go get fucking rooted!

There might be fun in poetry,

And art, and bein' literate;

It never hit the spot for me,

Nor you, though you won't admit to it.

The Sacred Temple of the Emerald Buddha -

Hear the distant gong beat.

You say you got a Ph D?

Well, good for you, my son.

How smart you fucking need to be

To work out that drugs are fun?

Have a fucking bash, pal -

Take this suspect load

And give to a mate of mine,

Lives on the Pat Pong Road.

You ever felt the warming waves

In the Gulf of old Siam?

Ever wanted to ever be

A different fucking man?

The Sacred Temple of the Emerald Buddha -

Foil parcels in my teeth.

You need to hear the Mekong flood -

It's an awesome fucking sound.

Take this package - quickly pal,

They've come to chain me down.

They bolt me to a concrete floor -

Don't get all moral, son:

There's sixty of us goes in here,

We all think drugs are fun.

50 years in a Thailand hell -

20 grams of smack up my arse.

Why? Cos drugs are fuckin' fun:

Why the fuck you need to ask?

The Sacred Temple of the Emerald Buddha -

Did a deal at the fat guy's feet.