| I have no money in my coffer
|
| No gold or silver do I bring
|
| Nor have I precious jewels to offer
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| To celebrate the newborn King
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| Yet do not spurn my gift completely
|
| O ye three wise men please demur
|
| Behold a plant that smokes more sweetly
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| Than either Frankincense or Myrrh
|
| And like the child born in this manger
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| This herb is mild yet it is strong
|
| And it brings peace to friend and stranger
|
| Good will to men lies in this bong
|
| And now my wonder weed is flarin'
|
| (Stephen: Are you high?)
|
| Looked like that special star above
|
| (Stephen: Can it be?)
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| Pass it around in endless sharin'
|
| (Stephen: On Christmas day?)
|
| And let not mankind bogart love
|
| (Stephen: You’d smoke my tree)
|
| And the wise men started tokin'
|
| And yea the bud was kind
|
| It was salvation they were smokin'
|
| And its forgiveness blew their minds
|
| And still that wonder weed is flarin'
|
| (Stephen: Are you high?)
|
| Looked like that star was once above
|
| (Stephen: You’re so high)
|
| Pass it around in endless sharin'
|
| (Stephen: Dude, man, dude)
|
| And let not mankind bogart love
|
| (Stephen: You’re really high
|
| I’m gonna tell your savior)
|
| And let not mankind bogart love |