March 3rd, 2010


Not every cigarette is a dead, dead thing
Some have a mind and try to be other things
Pushed in the pack, they crave some Virginia air
Softly, they pray to someone, but life ain't fair

He ripped the pack and coughed, and then coughed again
Popped out a cigarette, and we're near the end
She screamed and screamed but so much was filtered out
Now Nicotina's only a tiny cloud