I remember my first cigarette, at least the first one that I liked
We were standing on the balcony, drinking cheap red wine from Dixie cups and I remember smiling.
But the last few years have been so damn heavy, maybe I’ve just seen too many, maybe all the good ones are gone.
But I am like a drum, repeating what I mean
I am like a drum machine.
I am like a drum repeating everything I am like a drum machine.
I remember when my eyes went red in the mirror above the bathroom sink, trying to figure out what my head was telling me
And the blinding heat on the concrete makes me, feel more numb than anything, and I’m barely hanging on
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