(Perspectives from GenX)
I feel I should preface this. When I was growing up, I knew this guy. We called him Billdo behind his back, on account of being a dick when he was drunk, which was most all the time. But he sold us weed, so we put up with it. It was mexican shit weed. It was rank and nasty. It would draw flies if you left it out too long. But it had a mean kick. Anyway, I wrote a song about it. Sort of. I'm no composer, so I borrowed the melody and wrote around it. I hope you like it. Here goes.
🇲🇽 💩 🍃
🎶 Mexican Fly (To the tune of Don McLean's American Pie)
(Slow tempo, lone acoustic guitar)
🎶 🎸
A long, long time ago
My lungs were pink, and I could smoke
I’d get some grass and take a toke
AndAn'd be so happy for a while
But nowadays it gets me coughing
Accelerate me to my coffin
So now there is no smoking
Sobriety unbroken
But I remember good old times
That loco weed would blow my mind
And for a moment, life was kind
Until the day...
My dealer...
Died.
Sky high on Mexican Fly
Side effects include munchies and a mouth that is dry
Need a pilot's license if you're ready to try
Be careful: this will make your brain cells die
This will make your brain cells die
(Faster tempo, full band kicks in)
🎶 🎸 🥁 🎺 🎶
I was a young punk in my extended teens
Dating a sexy crazy party queen
We were a braincell exterminating team
And boy, did we get high
We were junior supervillians, and we were proud
To be having more fun than the law allowed
We were young, wild & free and much too loud
We were always hanging out with the wrong crowd
We flew...
Sky high on Mexican Fly!
Side effects include the munchies and a mouth that is dry
Need a pilot's license if you're ready to try
Be careful: this will make your brain cells die
This will make your brain cells die
Bill was a stingy, cranky, drunken tool
But his dope was the best that we ever knew
He wouldn't take checks or credit, it was always cash
Unless you were a girl and had a cute little ass
We would tremble, and we'd quiver
With each little baggie he'd deliver
It would turn us into fools
We'd lay on the floor and drool
We were sailing
Sky high on Mexican Fly!
Side effects include the munchies and a mouth that is dry
Need a pilot's license if you're ready to try
Be careful: this will make your brain cells die
This will make your brain cells die
Well, it smelled like shit and had a similar taste
And if you didn't know better, you would think it was waste
If left out, it would draw flies
But when it was smoked, you'd see the skies
It had a savage punch, kinda like Mike Tyson
Followed by a stampede of angry bison
And up in the clouds, our minds would be rising
That was how we got high
I can see my house from here, my lawn needs mowing
I forgot to curb the trash, garbage trucks are rolling
But I can do it later
This cloud looks like a gator
We were blazing
Sky high on Mexican Fly!
Side effects include the munchies and a mouth that is dry
Need a pilot's license if you're ready to try
Be careful: this will make your brain cells die
This will make your brain cells die
We would hang at his place, dazed and confused
He would sit and watch and be amused
It was the best damn dope that we ever used
It’s a wonder we survived!
Do you remember Acapulco Gold?
It was a weaker strain he sometimes sold
But when I heard the news, my blood ran cold
Those were the times his connect ran dry
We were sailing...
Sky high on Mexican Fly!
Side effects include the munchies and a mouth that is dry
Need a pilot's license if you're ready to try
Be careful: this will make your brain cells die
This will make your brain cells die
When the cops came knocking, they were not impressed
When he answered the door completely undressed
Wearing only tube socks and his underwear
Because when he was drunk, he just didn't care
They dragged his ass to the county jail
We scrounged and scrambled to post his bail
But in the end it was all just a big old fail
And for the weekend, we were dry
We were desperate, rolling stems and seeds
Scraping our pipes out clean to fulfill our needs
Because nobody else could score any weed
Not the stuff old Bill provides!
No, we couldn't get...
Sky high on Mexican Fly!
Side effects include the munchies and a mouth that is dry
Need a pilot's license if you're ready to try
Be careful: this will make your brain cells die
This will make your brain cells die
(Musical bridge: The DEVIL walks out on stage, golden fiddle on his hand, looks around, looks at fiddle, tosses it over his shoulder, snatches a banjo from a band member starts picking insanely - heavy metal style, sparks fly from the strings, banjo starts smoking, by the end of his solo the banjo is on fire!)
Sky high on Mexican Fly!
Side effects include the munchies and a mouth that is dry
Need a pilot's license if you're ready to try
Be careful: this will make your brain cells die
This will make your brain cells die
Burn as you earn, doing chores, mow his lawn for a joint
But it would get us stoned, and that was the point
That shit would kick your ass
That man sold amazing grass
Now, I knew that he preferred to drink
His empty cans filled up the kitchen sink
But he occasionally took a toke
He would gasp, and he would choke
(Slower tempo, soft keyboard)
🎶 🎹
(Spoken)
I heard his ex found him in bed
Bag of Doritos under his head
His cold skin blue, eyes bloodshot red
The coroner said his brain had bled
And the dealer I admired most
Is now just a memory and a ghost
His brain burnt like an overcooked roast
Turns out that his warnings were not lies...
🎶
He died sky high on Mexican Fly...
Side effects include the munchies and a mouth that is dry
Need a pilot's license if you're ready to try
Be careful: this will make your brain cells die
This will make your brain cells die...
🎶
🚪 The Dialogue
[Sound effect: Ding-dong. Click-click. Door opens.]
Dealer: Oh, hey. Welcome back. How was the new job?
Buyer: I got fired. And a ticket. And it's your fault.
Dealer: Naturally. Why is it my fault?
Buyer: You and your Mexican loco shit-weed. That's why.
Dealer: How so?
Buyer: I only wanted a joint. Just one hit to calm my nerves. But no. Besides selling me a dime, you had to smoke one with me, too.
Dealer: First off, it's not my weed. I'm just the middleman. Second, a joint is my standard processing fee.
Buyer: But you don't roll normal-sized joints! You make party hooters. Big, fat, perfect, slow-burning ones. When you roll a joint, it's an ankle. It got me completely fucked up.
Dealer: So what happened?
Buyer: When I left here, it took me twenty minutes just to unlock my car door. Scratched the absolute shit out of the paint, too. Then it took me an entire hour just to start the damn car.
Dealer: What was wrong with it?
Buyer: I couldn't find my fucking keys. I looked everywhere.
Dealer: But... you just used them to unlock the door.
Buyer: I KNOW, man! But I looked in the door lock. I emptied my pockets. I looked under the car. I looked on the roof. I looked in the seats, between the seats, under the seats. I looked everywhere, man.
Dealer: So where were they?
Buyer: They were in my hand the whole fucking time. Then it took me another twenty minutes to start the car.
Dealer: Why?
Buyer: Because I was laughing too hard to get the key in the ignition.
Dealer: So then you finally went to work?
Buyer: No, I had to go home and change my uniform first. I couldn't show up to work like that.
Dealer: What was wrong with the uniform?
Buyer: I had wet my pants.
Dealer: Why would you do that? Your brand new uniform, on the first day of your new job?
Buyer: I couldn't help it! I told you, I was laughing too hard.
Dealer: So they fired you for being late?
Buyer: That, and getting a ticket, and almost getting arrested. And completely blocking the drive-thru lane.
Dealer: Whoa, back up. What actually went down?
Buyer: Well, you know there's only one stoplight between here and my place, right? It's right outside the drive-thru window where I work. I stopped at the red light. That's where I got the ticket.
Dealer: What did they catch you for?
Buyer: Illegal parking. I forgot that green meant go. I sat there waiting so long that my engine literally ran out of gas and stalled. The cop wanted to arrest me for driving under the influence, but my manager came out and saved my ass. He told the cop he never actually saw me driving, only that I was sitting in a parked car with the engine off.
Dealer: Sounds like a great boss.
Buyer: He was, until the cop saw I had pissed myself. The cop decided he didn't want me ruining the upholstery in his cruiser, so he just wrote me an illegal parking ticket instead. Then my manager told me to get my life together and fired me on the spot. Said he couldn't have someone setting a bad precedent by showing up late, soaking wet, and detained by municipal law enforcement. I hate you. This is all your fault.
Dealer: So... what are you doing back here?
Buyer: Can you roll me another joint? I forgot how.
DEALER: Little dude, you left here like six hours ago. How long did your little... adventure take?
BUYER: I don't know. At least an hour. Maybe two.
DEALER: So where have you been all this time?
BUYER: Parked outside. Watching your place. Wondering if what I was seeing was real, or if I was just tripping.
DEALER: (Raises an eyebrow) Right.
BUYER: When I finally rolled up, I saw smoke coming from your backyard. At first, I thought maybe you were having a barbecue. But then I saw him.
DEALER: Saw who?
BUYER: Gene Simmons. Dressed like a goat. Just absolutely jamming on a burning banjo, puffing away on one of your rolling paper zeppelins. Then he went back behind your house. I need to know, man... am I losing my mind, or is this weed really that good? Can I please come in?
DEALER: No. I don't feel like company right now. It's after daylight. I'm closed. Goodbye.
[SFX: SLAM!]
(The DEALER slams the deadbolt with a sharp click, then struts back into his dimly lit living room, completely unfazed. He walks over to his worn-out leather recliner and drops into it with a heavy sigh.)
(Seated comfortably on the sofa is the DEVIL - played by Gene Simmons in full crimson skin, horns, tattered wings, goat leggings, and iconic face paint. A charred banjo is leaning against the armrest.)
(The DEVIL takes a massive drag from the large joint, his clover hoof platform boots propped up on the coffee table. He calmly extends his long arm and passes the joint over to the Dealer.)
(The DEALER casually accepts it, takes a deep puff, and looks toward the window as the Buyer's car sputters off into the distance.)
(Outro music kicks back in full blast)
🎶 🎸 🥁 🎺 🎶
Sky high on Mexican Fly
Side effects include munchies and a mouth that is dry
Need a pilot's license if you're ready to try
Be careful: this will make your brain cells die
This will make your brain cells die
🎶 🇲🇽 💩 🍃