I breathe no fumes, I taste no spirits
My life is pure, my face reveals it
But when I pen my thoughts and share
They mock me as a stoner, a loser, a square
They think I need a plant to spark my muse
They doubt my skill, my worth, my views
But trust me or not, I’m clean as a whistle
I’ve never touched it, not even a little
But maybe someday, who knows, I might
And then they’ll see me in a different light
Trust me or not: I am clean
