I am high on peyote,
When I gorge, I maunder.*
My deficits don't fall; they grow.
The stuff cost me a fortune.
But it was well worth it.
I like it just as much as blow,
Like it just as much as blow.
Can I plant it with a hoe?

I'll plant it on my rancho.
I won't tell my master; he'd get bent
Out of shape. . .berate loudly,
Then he might pop a stent.
I found heaven, but I still like a little sin.
I near choked on that pretzel repast
Because I had been drinking Everclear and gin.
Like the old days--boy, was I smashed!

I am high on peyote
On my rancho in Crawford.
My Mephisto calls and I go.
We are blowing a fortune.
And it's kind of awkward,
'Cause we're "conservatives," ya know?
Like my "faith," this, shtik is faux.
Onward to score some more blow!