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Tell Your Children (to Drop the Needle) Gather ‘round, clean-cut kids in white Pull your chairs in real, real tight There’s a menace lurkin’ in the jazz-filled dark One puff away from a moral spark It starts with a laugh, ends with crime According to this filmstrip from ‘39 Mother cries, preacher sweats One drag turns you into a threat Reefer madness Sweet Mary Jane One hit got me tappin’ my foot insane They said I’d snap, they said I’d fall But I just ate the couch and the wall Reefer madness Hide the youth Roll the credits, light the truth If this is hell, then strike me blind ‘Cause paranoia’s got a real good high Jimmy took a toke, now Jimmy’s wild Played some jazz, scandalized a child Sally danced like the devil’s bride One puff later, homicide Cue the judge with the righteous scowl As the band plays swing at a funeral howl Black-and-white fear, celluloid sin Smoke goes out, but the joke rolls in Reefer madness Lost my soul to a gram of grass They said I’d rob, they said I’d steal But I just forgot how the clocks feel Reefer madness! Sound the alarm Six-string doom and a hempen charm If this is wrong, I don’t wanna be right Pass the riff and dim the light Experts agree Experts agree on nothin’, man One cigarette leads to ruin Ruin’s got a killer groove, though Smoke curls up like a question mark Morals melt in the amplifier dark Fuzzed-out sermon, half-time dread Everybody’s stoned, nobody’s dead Reefer madness End of days Shot in fear and projected haze They tried to scare us straight and narrow But missed the point by a country mile Reefer madness Roll it again History laughs through a cloud of phlegm If this film’s truth was meant to last Why’s it sound better slow and blasted So tell your children, warn your friends About the devil’s lettuce trend Then drop the needle, dim the lamps And laugh it off through vintage amps