The King’s No-Smoke Decree
From the album: High tales of tokeshire
In the halls of Castle Blaze, the king sat on his throne,
He sniffed a whiff of something skunky—“Who dares to get stoned?”
The jester giggled, the wizard coughed, the guards just looked away,
A puff of green escaped the air… and sparked a royal fray.
“No smoke, no bud, no dragon grass!
This kingdom shall be clean!”
The bard said, “Sire, that smell you hate—
That’s coming from your queen.”
He banned all bongs, he burned the stash, he outlawed pipes and lighters,
But knights in armor snuck dank herbs inside their holy fighters.
A pigeon flew with secret strains tucked in its little vest,
And scrolls of law got paper-rolled to put that bud to test.
So now the king stays grumpy, in chambers filled with gloom,
While rebels roast enchanted buds just outside his room.
His crown smells faintly fruity, his mood is always blue—
'Cause everyone is getting high… except for Royal You.