Sweet Leaf
Oh balmy days I yearn for thee,your fruits and easy charm
Still my dreams are haunted,by the ghosts that mean me harm
My days are often drear,my nights are troubled yet
Of desert sand and bunkers,bangs that make me fret
Recall sharp as knives,I hide them when I can
And every day I wake,to think of Terry Taliban
Now the line is severed,and poppies fail to yield
Still the young ones toil,to till their barren field
My work was cruel but needed done
I preferred to parley,yet others used the gun
Seeds already sown,and over we must start
Deny the western dealers,each must play their part
So sweet leaf I ask,is your value real?
More than just an income,or a deadly deal
Were my friends the victim,that folk can take a smoke
Their deaths another moment,that in my dreams are spoke?
I still see their smiles,and joy upon their face
Never mind the horror,that surrounds us in this place
So for me I cannot,nor even ever would
Lizzie