Cannabis Triffidus © Steve Adams
Harry was a Hampstead hippy,
The '67 variety,
Stoned all night, stoned all day
At least he had consistency.
And in his flat he grew a pot plant,
He loved it like an only son,
Till one day, to his dismay,
He looked and found his pot plant gone;
It pulled its roots and it done gone, man.
Cannabis Triffidus walked out on the town, Turning on everyone it found.
At first the people went, "Ooh!" But then the people went, "Ah! Ha-ha-ha-ha!
Cannabis Triffidus, what a friendly freak you are!”
P.C. Jones was number one victim,
Alone out on his late night beat.
The plant it pounced, injected half an ounce,
Swept him off his two flat feet.
They found him 9 o'clock next morning,
Obviously having fun,
Directing cars through Regent's Park,
With nothing but his helmet on.
That's his chances of promotion gone, man.
Cannabis Triffidus, what a worthy weed you are.”
"Shock, horror!" screamed the six inch headlines.
"Stay in and lock your doors!" they cried,
So every street filled up with sixties freaks,
The plant was happy to oblige.
The BBC began its warning:
"We interrupt this programme to......"
But just then, guess what burst in
And soundly zapped the camera crew:
Normal service never was resumed, man.
Cannabis Triffidus, what a venerable veg. you are.”
The plant was highly conscientious;
Within a week no one in town was spared.
Chaos reigned, and yet it's strange,
By then nobody seemed to care.
T’was then the U.S. troops invaded,
(in the interests of democracy).
The big guns fired; the plant expired;
But as it fell it dropped some seeds.
Ten thousand flew off in the breeze, man!
Cannabis Triffidi walked in every land, Turning on everyone they found.
At first the people went, "Ooh!" But then the people went "Ah! Ha-ha-ha-ha!
Cannabis Triffidi, what chips off the old block you are!”