I am standing outside on my balcony, it's late night, cold and I am freezing.
I hold a cigarret in my hand and it's poison is what I am breathing.
I am aware of it, that it can be deadly, but I still consume.
It's because I am addicted, and afflicted but afterwards I'll just get back into my room.

Returning, but my lungs are still burning.
It feels good, for a while, until you realise that you might die.
But who cares, everything you do might be deadly, and it's dreadly.

There's nothing right, neither there's something wrong,
it depends on the persons opinion.

You should not judge, neither critisize, rather respect and understand.
Because that's what you'd prefer in the end.

I am going for another one, the last one wasn't enough.
Outside again, still freezing and again I am breathing.
I can feel the poison inside of me, it's noxious and obnoxious.
But for some reason I still enjoy, it must be a ploy.