mogie
Well-Known Member
Silverstein - 1972
Now in the laid back California,
town of sunny San Rafael. Lived a girl named Pearly
Sweetcake, you probably knew her well. She was stoned
fifteen, of her eighteen years. And her story was
widely told, That she could smoke em faster, than
anyone could roll.
Well her legend finally reached New
York, that grove street walk up flat. Where dwelt the
Calistoga Kid, a beatnik from the past. He'd been
rolling dope since time began, Now took a cultured
poke , and said Jim I can roll em faster, than any
chick can smoke.
So a note gets sent to San Rafael,
for the championship of the world. The kid demands a
smoke off, Well bring him on says Pearl. I'll grind
his fingers of his hands, He'll roll until he drops.
Says Calistoga I'll smoke that chick, till blows up
and pops.
So they rent out Yankee Stadium, and the
word is quickly spread. Come one come all who walk or
crawl, Tickets just two lids a head. And from every
town and hamlet, Over land and sea they speed. The
worlds greatest dopers, with the worlds greatest weed.
Hasishes from Marocco, hemp smokers from Peru, And the
Schasnicks from Bagon, Who smoke the deadly pugaru.
And those who call it light of life, And those that
call it boo. See the dealers and their ladies, Wearing
turquoise lace and leather. See the narcos and the
closet smokers, puffin all together. From the teenies
who smoke legal, to the ones who've done some time. To
the old man who smoked reefer, back before it was a
crime. And the grand old house that Ruff built, is
filled with the smokes and cries, of fifty screaming
heads, all stoned out of their minds. And they play
the national anthem, and the crowd lets out a roar, as
the spotlight hits the Kid and pearl, ready for their
smoking war.
At a table piled high with grass, as high
as a mountain peak. just top and buds of the rarest
flowers, not one stem branch or seed. I mean a mowie a
wowie a Panama red, Acapulco gold, keef from east
Afghanistan, and that rare Alaska cold. and there's
sticks from Thiland,games from the island. and
Bangkok's blooming best and some of that wet imported
shit that capsized of Key west. There's wahokin pops
and Kenya burn, and Reverie flors and that rare
Manhattan silver , that grows down the New York
sewers. And there's bubbling ice cold lemonade, and
sweet grapes by the bunches. and there's Hershey bars
and Orios, in case anybody gets the munches. And the
calastoga kid he smiles, and Pearly she just grins.
And the drums roll low ,and the crowd yells go go go
and the worlds first smoke off begins. Well the kid he
flicks his fingers once, sot that first joint's
rolled. Pearl takes one poke with her famous lungs,
and whoosh that roach is cold. Then the kid he rolls
his super bomb, that would paralyze a moose. and Pearl
takes one mighty hip, that bombs defused. And then he
rolls three in just ten seconds, and she smokes them
up in nine. And everybody sits back and says hey this
just might take some time. See the blur of fling
fingers, see the red coal burning bright.
As the night
turns into morning, and the morning fades to night.
And the autumn turns to summer and a whole damn year
is gone and the two still sit on that roach filled
stage smoking and Rollin. with trembling hands he
rolls his jays, with fingers blue and stiff. she
coughs, and stares with blood shot gaze and puffs
through blistered lips. And as she reaches out her
hand for another stick of gold The Kid he gasps,
"Goddamn it, bitch, there's nothing' left to roll"
"Nothin' left to roll?" screams Pearl, "Is this some
twisted joke?" "I didn't come here to fuck around,
man, "I come here to SMOKE!"
And she reaches 'cross
the table and she grabs his bony sleeves And she
crumbles his body between her hands like dried and
brittle leaves Flicking' out his teeth and bones like
useless stems and seeds Then she rolls him in a Zig
Zag and lights him like a roach And the fastest man
with the fastest hands goes up in a puff of smoke. In
the laid-back California town of sunny San Rafael
Lives a girl named Pearley Sweetcake, you probably
know her well She's been stoned twenty-one of her
twenty-four years, and the story's widely told How she
still can smoke them faster than anyone can roll While
off in New York City, on a street that has no name
There's the hands of The Calistoga Kid in the Viper
Hall of Fame And underneath his fingers there's a
little golden scroll That says: "Beware of Bein' the
Roller When There's Nothin' Left to Roll."
