sat on a cobbled street
concealed from the prying eyes
i take a guilty drag of my cigarette
though i know you hate me smoking

i talk to myself aloud
and pretend you're here with me
whilst the smoke flows from my mouth
though i know you hate me smoking

i haven't seen you
in a while, four days to be precise
and a tear falls from my eye
because i know you hate me smoking

i miss you
every day and i miss you with all i have
if you were here you'd say i shouldn't be so sad
though you really do hate me smoking

all the times when we were high
discussing travelling through time
and the defnition of comfort
and how much you hate me smoking

now you're far away
and i'd give just about anything
to hear you one more time
to say how you hate me smoking