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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 |
|
|
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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... |
