Twas the morn of 4/20, when all through the pad
Not a stoner was stirring, not even Morning Brad.
The paraphernalia was placed by the couch with care,
In hopes that St Bong-Rips soon would be there.
But the chronics had yet to get out of bed,
Because visions of Taco Bell danced in their heads.
And Barry in his ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just melted our brains before a long stoner’s nap.
(We didn’t nap together, we aint gay or anything)
When we’d all woken up, we met in the den,
We sat in a circle to pass the bowl around then.
The Beatles voices crooned from out of the Hi-Fi,
To a room full of soon-to-be very high guys.
Things were great ‘till that terrible news flash
Our dear old friend Hippy had misplaced his stash.
Oatmeal leapt up, “I’ll look in the kitchen!”
“I wont let this day be anything but bitchen’.”
Simon Theory began to think, he tried to use his head,
But he was soon distracted, in the kitchen, by bread.
More rapid than eagles our panic arose,
We all searched around, so we could get baked with our bro’s!
“Not in the kitchen, the hall, or the den. Oh we’re certain!”
In our hurry to search we even tore down the curtains.
Then Hippy appeared, face as red as a rocket,
“I just found my stash, it was in my back pocket.”
With order restored, we got ready to smoke
I packed up a bowl, to take a huge toke.
And just as my day was about to get brighter,
I said, “So wait– who’s got the lighter?”
Happy 4/20 everyone !