When the smokes sets in
with the taste of gin
And my eyes whirl
and my head twirls
I am gone, gone,
the sky I look upon
alone and dark
The song of the lark
Rolls within my ears
Turns seconds into years
The sky finally clears
I wipe away my tears
And fight away the fears
Think of happy souvenirs

That white, billowy, ghost -like smoke
Dips me like a cake to soak,
soak in the fresh air of night
And everything which seemed trite
Now sparkles like sumptuous jewels
My mind no longer follows the rules
Set by society, because I’m faded
So all the complaints, pain and hatred
Are tossed in the wind, unrelated
To all the happiness most have wasted