There’s something about the way
a cigarette lights up the dark,
and the smoke trails away,
just drifts away into the night.
You know it’ll kill you,
All the way from that first moment.
The first time you put it to your lips,
and inhale. Inhale. Inhale. Die a little.
Nicotine in your bloodstream,
kind of like a good dream.
Tar in your lungs,
drowning never felt this good.
Red in a black night,
a whisper only you can hear.
It owns you like you’ve never
been owned before.
It’s bondage of the soul;
pleasure they’ll never understand,
exploration of the dark side.
Forty years from now,
Hell, forty minutes from now,
you’ll still be a slave.
And it won’t feel so good
In the long run, probably.
When the emphysema kicks in,
and the cancer comes,
but my God, it was good.
You never looked so cool,
you never felt so calm.
Never felt so much like you
would maybe explode right
out of your skin if you didn’t get
just one more damn drag.
Tricks and trips and bullshit,
just to get you to take a whiff,
It might kill you, but
it’s still a beautiful thing,
watching those cigarillos
swirl and whirl and fade
away into the dead of night.