*Give me cigarettes, give me chocolate
I like it Joe...*
My soles rested on this cotton-white candy land
Unsure if it was the cold touch of these featherbeds
Or the flakes of hesitation that brought chills
Into my clueless mind
*Give me cigarettes, give me chocolate
I like it Joe...*
This 1945 song played over and over in my head
As if it helped lessen the shame and discomfort
That was traveling from the tip of my toe
To each in every active follicle of my hair
Ah, I savored the strange moment that it was
Of what I considered triumph. Strange,
That I even felt achieved in this strange land
When the real war of time and belief is yet to come
I wore Chinchilla coats over my dignity
Yet to me, every stride was irrelevant
An account for differences, even partiality
The Dr Pepper in my hand seemed out of place or was I?
The white backdrop where I was standing
Only served to amplify my striking shade
And how fool I was to even think
That the landlords would consider me germane?
Who was I to even presume acceptance
When their own predilection as old as time still lives?
Is it perfidiousness to long a taste of a miracle
In the land of dreams?
*Give me cigarettes, give me chocolate
I like it Joe...*