Through my sickly fingers I **** in with the one lung I have left
hoping for something, anything, to jumpstart the quiet of my heart.
The soul that rattles within these bones yells through the fog
of blistering smoke exhaled from two frailly parted lips.
This is my life and I'm ending it one drag at a time because that's all
the freedom god will give me in a land of oppression and debauchery.
Sue me, string me up before the town, and drop the trap.
Harmony at last.