I, cigarette fingers

puff and poke

puff and poking the smoke

touches the ground



you, your lungs and your wrists

they throb like trains

choo choo choo

it's a prison of sound



of sound



she, by my chinny chin chin

eee-oh eee-oh

like a zippo smokes the way

hope, around



you, your lungs and your wrists

they throb like trains

choo choo choo

it's a prison of sound



a prison of sound



she, by the hair of my chinny chin chin

eee-oh eee-oh eee-oh eee-oh

like a zippo smokes the way

hope, around



you, your lungs and your wrists

they throb like trains

choo choo choo

it's a prison of sound



I poke around...