maxie and me were both sixteen
just a couple of asshole punks
wasting our time in sunny beirut so
one saturday morning maxie walked in
and woke my drunk ass up
just walked on in like it wasnt shit
thanks mom i said to myself
hey man got any hash
aw maxie what the fuck man
just got back from miami man
got any hash got any hash
aw shit well hang on a sec
i didnt have a clue but maybe
my mattress on the floor in those days
my pockets plenty in those days
well thank you jesus would you look at that
a marble sized chunk of black bizri
wrapped in a silver coat
maxie breaking nuggets off the chunk
scrabbling with a blackened thumbnail
filling a shitty old meerschaum pipe
carved in a popeye face
with a pierced tinfoil bed
i like my hash rolled up with some tobacco
but i was in his hands you see
he fired it up with a big old zippo
your gonna burn your nose off
fuck you said happy maxie
woofing at the hash with squeaking asthma lungs
a pigeon chested mannequin
he sat his ass down on my mattress
you sleep naked he said what a pervert haha
fuck you maxie lemme get some of that
i had a big black and white poster of hendrix up on my wall
i contemplated it while my buzz took hold
i imagined jimi singing a song about hash
wangin on that slick guitar
i told myself someday i will write that song
of course jimi was alive in those days
wearing out the guitars and the women and the hash
in mean old london town
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