A drink melts in my hand
cigarette between my fingers
smoky curtain between my world and yours
look through the window
hazy shade of grey coats
my view

if it’s all the same
what’s the point in trying

Yellow sun is shining
cigarette between my fingers
smoky curtain protects my world from yours
behind my smile
hides my wicked thoughts
of you

if it ends the same
what’s the point in dying

A package of rebellion
sits empty
the bottle has run dry
it’s all the same
why should we even try