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 [buying chilly 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...






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