The 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.