It was not the grass I smoked, that’s clear
My stoned eyes were not high for a change
The red color was screaming for peace again
She was the sense of joy, bliss and life to the moment
Oh I tell you, the only soul was holding on to.
The stretched conversation with her over the poison
Was honored by every drop of silence I held
I realize I had goosebumps, looking at her again n again
It was strange to behave so childish
Suddenly I pinched myself and yelled, what’s rubbish
I must not let the hormones drive it again
But it was the need of an hour and the pain.