Rain forest fumes making us high and calm,
the wet damp leaves refreshes us all.
This sweet scent reminds me of her,
like a fine fruit, with the tightest of curves.
The odor of the clouds is clean and crisp,
but if you want to catch a buzz here is a tip.

It's not the cherry coconut,
or the chilled orange creme.
It's not the apple hazelnut,
or the watermelon seed.
It's not the grape vanilla swirl,
or the strawberry kiwi song.
It's not the same old girl,
it's the raspberry almond.

The tastes vary and differ, very much so,
and it glides down your throat smooth and slow.
You can grow all of the fields and plow,
but I'm telling you this right now.
With the mouth watering love she gives,
you can go days without water, but without her you can't live.

It's not the blueberry coconut,
or the frozen chocolate creme.
It's not the sour apple peanut,
or the cotton candy greed.
It's not the key lime taste,
or the banana pecan,
It's not the same old waste,
it's the raspberry almond.