Smokestack

a lit cigarette in an ashtray
Image via Wikipedia

Caught in the middle of smoke
and I think of you
hidden between the vapors and the little lies
we tell

caught in the middle of smoke
but you wanted out
so you left and you left all over again
you left me with an empty bottle of gin

same old grin
crooked smile we smile

was everything always so green
were you always so fresh to me

I hid, I hid behind your smile
but now but now the smoke is the lie
and they turn they turn away

flying to be free
trying to be free
trying to be me

looking down a smokestack.

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