Who's ready to get highnnLittle mambo Sammy puts his fingers on the stringsnThe lightening flies right off his tipsnAnd the little girlies screamnHe pops the pills into his mouthnAnd walks up to the mike and shoutsnnWho's ready to get highnnI think that evil SatannHe is looking for my soulnHe's sittin' on my front porchnPlaying cards and then he foldsnHis turns his shiny headnAnd then he holds up his syringe and saysnnMumble stumble riff raff GarynHe puts in his replynHarpies come torment his soulnAnd spit into his eyenHe shakes 'em off, unrolls his bagnAnd holds it up to the sky and saysnnWho's ready to get high