the clinging stench of cigarettes from nights so long and lonesome
staying with me through the day
And a smile thats more tiresome than living with my devil
he helps me slip away

I walk through the fields of my saviors own creation
and think of what he should have made
but instead he made me and I'm here until I waken
aging slowly to a grave

there isn't much under heaven above
there isn't a soul that I couldn't have loved