Cigarette marks on the edge of the chair,
The thickness of smoke is gone.
Discussing how life sometimes isn't fair,
Four eyes and two souls make a bond.

Birds in the background are singing their songs,
Slowly but surely they fly.
They get darker and darker, a smoker's lungs,
"It's fine" as I tell myself lies.

Plans get bigger and dreams always shrink,
With time we all learn to let go.
Life speeds up, we have no time to think,
Only stop for a roll of tobacco.

The balcony's edge is this deep orange-red,
Soon the evening will dye the sky blue.
Our hands are now ashy, the sun has just set,
The cigarette's fragrance reminds me of you.