Mr. Jones (Captain Puff)

Oh, you blow hard, Mr. Jones,
King of the rolled cash crop, Captain Puff.
You have so much influence on the little kiddies
And you can make little kiddie minds.
There's death, destruction, chaos
Left in your wake.

Chapped fellow, Mr. Jones, you are so chapped,
And I, fellow observer, thankful I am me now,
Now more than ever before.
You are creased beyond comprehension,
Not I, for my abstention has kept me so very clean.
So very clean, Captain Puff. I'm so very clean.

Here's to life on the run, Mr. Jones, for what it's worth,
For your time here is much, much less than mine
Pray tell no accidents to me,
But you are in pain inside. Not a care in the world.
Dying to make a living, but instead, you're really just dying.
Dying, Captain Puff, to come full circle, to come to.