I’m blowing smoke out of the chimney in my lungs
My tongue’s an ashtray for songs that have never been sung
My head’s a duel flame of a battle yet to be won
My heart’s a furnace in the trapdoor in the sun
All that has to be done
All that has to be fun
My fingers run, this is the smoking gun
Trapped like a nun, in a hustler’s pun
Flesh weighs a ton, this is the smoking gun