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When the Stuff Gets Scarce


When the stuff gets scare
We have two ways to the hell
One when wallet is as barren as a used bong
Another when the crusaders put on their saviours’ mask
The police are just fine with the business

When the fellows throng the streets with wooden expression
Running noses, teary eyes and as non-travelling vagabonds,
Something is wrong with the universe
Tho’ we have seen there are only two ways
Only two sure ways we can expect.


Sick once an old man fell
And my friend and I were happy when his wife called
He needed some shots for the day
It saved us all the agonies of the day

The old man might be sick but we cared for only our share
So we went to the neighbourhood’s pusher
We got more than we had expected
Who knows others’ illness can be a disguise for unexpected high

When the stuff gets scare
When there are only two ways to hell
We put up against the whole universe
No matter nobody knows 


When the stuff gets scare
We have two ways to the hell
We have to pool the money
Or we can go to Churachandpur.

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