'Twas the night before Friday
and all through the town,
no cops were cruising,
no narks were around.
As we all rolled our joints
to be put in our sacks,
we knew that soon
we'd be stoned to the max.
We drank Jack Daniel's
And smoked Panama Red,
a hit of tea
and man I felt dead.
We were all up that midnight
all of the day, when
there was a knock at the door
that gave us away.
There stood a man
wearing a smile,
so we invited him in
to party a while.
What to our red,
glassy eyes should appear,
two pounds of Columbia
and a case of beer.
So we sat down
and he started to roll,
filled up a glass
and lit up a bowl.
We ask the man
what was his name,
he said Saint Nichol
and drugs is my fame.
So as the man
strutted out of sight,
he said mari-ju-ana to all
and to all a good night.
