A song to the bong: my take on James K Baxter
If you’re off your face from smoking grass?’’ Student accountants, lawyers and doctors Didn’t reckon on prying proctors
As David Scott went off half-cocked
Some scarfies left their flat unlocked
Into the empty flat he crept
While upstairs a wasted student slept
Off a scarfie Bacchanalia
When proctor spied drug paraphernalia He’d seen the bongs from outside the flat And quickly decided he had to act Though burgling made the proctor nervous He was doing those spliffing scarfies a service He’d have to confiscate those bongs
Or else the police with long batons Might make those scarfies’ poor life hell And throw them in a cold police cell
The cops would treat them worse than proctor They might even use a helicopter.
When the students found their bongs not there They well and truly did despair
‘‘Some bastard’s gone and stolen our stash Our finest Coromandel hash
When we find the dude who nicked our blunts We’ll kill the nasty thieving persons.’’ Before the scarfies called the police Proctor called and said his piece
‘‘I took the bongs for your own good
You lads should give up smoking Buddh You’ll be arrested by cops down here
And say goodbye to your career’’ In Proctorworld no-one smokes dak
They exercise; eat healthy snacks Students don’t bong till they’re off their scone But sing Bible songs in the Proctogon
But New Zealand law is very plain
The scarfies’ rights the proctor disdained These kids that you are meant to be mentoring Are victims of your breaking and entering. Sadly we live in the real world
Where scarfies toke and chunder and hurl But if a student passes their degree
Who cares about sobriety?
Let them learn life’s lessons alone
Not from a patronising ex-cop drone Dunedin scarfies deserved your apology For your invasive act of proctorcology.