The Big Smoke
From Denver to Dover, from Delhi to Delft
From Dublin to Dar es Salaam—
There’s a need that I feel
At the end of each meal
And I sate it wherever I am.
For some chaps it’s tea, and for others, a pee,
But my own post-prandial itch
Is a thing that I’ve done
Since I turned twenty-one
That has made Winston-Salemites rich.
A puff on a ciggie! A draw on a dart!
There’s nothing I’ve ever tried yet
That makes me feel bigger or gladder of heart
Than an after-dessert cigarette.
I started with Exports and moved on to Kents,
Then Camels, unfiltered and short.
Both Pall Malls and Players
Were answers to prayers
(I’m not the particular sort).
I’ve lit up at weddings, and funerals, and wakes.
I’ve even lit up in the loo.
I smoke when I work and
I smoke when I twerk. Land
Ahoy! I smoke in my canoe.
But no time is better for having a cig
Than when one’s just finished one’s food.
You take out your Dunhills
And draw ‘til each lung fills
With nicotinized gratitude!
A puff on a ciggie! A draw on a dart!
There’s nothing I’ve ever tried yet
That makes me feel bigger or gladder of heart
Than an after-dessert cigarette.
You bet!
An after-dessert cigarette.