When we got to the levee,
It was already broke
So we went to the armory,
It was fillin' with smoke
When we got to the jailhouse,
It was covered with weeds
So we busted the front gate,
Take what we need
Poor, poor Benzedrine
Lookin' low, lookin lean
It's a might hard soft machine
Poor poor Benzedrine
John, take hold of your mother
Glory be
John, take hold of your mother