A sprig of cactus weed
A Shotglass of Tequila Please
Some Mutton Chops
And some Lemon Drops

To Rest each each day
after so much death and decay
Even if it means smiley faces
And flying places

But to the sadness of one
The Weed Crumble and there is none
Empty Flagons
And Drunken Dark ones

Rest now Occultist
For the will is hard to ressist
A clear head and mind
for the next day of the grind

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Lleian, in the year 93 MA.