To Cut A Lung Story Short

Day One

Oh how I gag
For a drag
On your fag
But a smoke
Of your ciggie
Would make me
Feel dizzy.

To bacco
Or not to bacco
That is the question.

Day Two

Oh how I hanker
After cancer
Of the lung
Or the tongue.
It’s not joke
I’d die
For a smoke.

Day Three

When I survey
The state of disarray
In my ashtray,
The stubbed-out butts
Of a hundred Silk Cuts,
I feel revulsion
Towards my compulsion.

I hope that one night
I’ll take fright
At the sight
Of a Marlboro Light
And the mere mention
Of a Benson
Or a Camel
Will give me the hump
And I will no longer trammel
My respiratory system
And girls would not recoil
When I kissed ’em.

But until the day arrives
When I finally pack them in
I’ll continue to drop my donation
In the Cancer Research tin.

And if you want to know
What the moral of this song is
It’s that he whose lungs last
Lives longest.


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