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Incan Fruit - Chemical Cult
Junkies Unite For A Better Tomorrow
Incan Fruit
this here, is an unfinished poem about cocaine.  Let me know what you think

South American trees

Peruvian tombs covered in cocoa leaves

unifying the people among kings and queens

together they formed pre-electric Inca

praising the gift of the gods

god of farming god of gold

worshiped without nights sleep

each day we were walking on the sun

crawling on our knees roots grow over our feet

now arrived Spanish conquest

in a world where we began calling on Jesus

in a world where they took away the cocoa

crowning their princes

whipping our women

we go stalk naked into the fields

chained into the ground

calling out loud

give us our cocoa

coca is an agent of the devil

they said

give us our cocoa

as we're burning under a sun

that knows no family

only numbers

they marked us like cattle

outlawing the cocoa

fuel for their growing engine

a tank on empty

dreaming of salt flavored plantains

windy days and the breath of salt

Another man’s fuel

Is another mans death.

Pulling rusty flowers out the ground

By the neck, until we devour the powdered rice

As you pay the price of sugar

you beg for more veins to devour

And at 5 percent tax

There will no cure to the

crystalline tropane alkaloid sponge

nitrogen lungs devouring dopamine

psycho active stimulants



nitrogen oxygen four


Putting Doctors in a coma

With this magical recipe

Look here folks!

Before your glass eyes

I present the very thing

You dreamed about

A lifelong companion

An acidic concoction

Dribbling fluid from your nose

Overworking the insides of your brains

And that is only in the fine print

We can overwrite that in this hat

I present you with

Coca Cola

By the gallon

He feels no hunger

We get to feed him less

He’s found the end of the rainbow

From the particles of sweat

Brushing off his pounds

A snake sheds it skin

Colored like the rain out of the cloud

He tastes the sunlight behind his back

The next day he’s at it again

And again, and again

Give me my cocoa

Give us our cocoa

The rains will never fall again

I am a dust mite to your mansions

Yet I put food on the table

I bring meat to your bones

the closets a dusty coffin,

holding my bloody fingers

when they found me in the river there were rocks in my coat pockets

my skeleton is a house made of cards, I became the queen of hearts

I am a flea to your spine

That turns your eye into round sores

As they attempt to look through mine

A burden, you won’t bear

skin of wax

melting at the speed of tigers

We are the people of Erthyroxlyn shrubbery

A burden you can’t pay for

You are today, where we wear a cage

If we have caught the disease.

I have caught the sickness

I am ill

For a burden you can’t pay for

You are the only thread left to hold on to

There are a pair of scissors

You use to cut me away

There is no use to trash

That can’t be recycled.



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