I sit here with my peoples
smoking on a fat cigar with an herbal flavor
The smoke fills the air with happiness appearing in a shapeless form
It rises and rises
then disappears, To never be seen again
As I puff this delicious herb I think to myself
Is this the mind I must wander?
Will this herb make me more knowledgeable?
Have my thoughts become more clear?
Is this how I imagine my voice to sound?
The truth is, I'm higher then life
I'm on top of the world
of course my own world
The world that doesn't exist
Or does it?

