Cocaine Rain

Chapter 1

Cocaine Rain

A line of powder,
To whet your palette.
A hit to the head,
With a giant wooden mallet.
It goes up your nose,
It stays there for a while.
It makes you happy,
You could run eight miles.
And on the downs,
You tie your noose.
And on the downs,
Your head feels loose.
It comes back out,
In bursts of rage.
It comes back out,
Letting you outta your cage.
Its cocaine rain.

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