In Flanders Fields, the poppies grow
Between the crosses, row on row,
   To mark the dead.

To Flanders Fields, the hippies go
To smoke the poppies there below
   And feed their heads. And they're all friends of mine, each and every one of them, no better and no worse. . .

This is what happens, apparently, when you get straight people like Burton Cummings and Randy Bachman trying their hand at drug music.