I once met a gas sniffer, he was pretty cool
Always quick with a laugh, always skipping off school
He was nine years old, I was nine and twenty
He was living with nothing in a land of plenty

Woah oh gas sniffer, you sure been denied
This land should be yours but my government lied
So there you are, gas sniffer, with a bag on your nose
Wearing big city, big brother, hand-me-down clothes

Up north in the winter it gets pretty cold
Where he lives it’s a hard life; he don’t want to grow old
Me, I got no answers, and I don’t want to preach
‘Cause we both get to learn when we both get to teach

Woah oh gas sniffer …

So I gave him my harmonica, said go ahead and make noise,
Play the blues or the fox chase, vocalize your joys.
Share it round with the little ones. Every gas sniffer knows
That you can’t blow harp with a bag on your nose

Woah oh gas sniffer …

Woah oh little man, you sure been denied
This land should be yours but my government lied
So there you are, little, standin’ tall on your toes
Dig deep, stay strong, you got a long way to go.

And I sure love the harp that a gas sniffer blows.

Written by Trevor Mills, 2002, SOCAN