My left hand smelled of tobacco,
The doctor said I need this to let go.
Lie the doc,it's a good habit to lie,
My demons advised,it's better off to die.
So I started more to smoke,
With an excuse to tell,that I was always left broke.
Lied all if 'em,cause I needed something to hold,
And I loved holding this burning white paper fold.
I thought it was easy,to keep it always steady,
Just like the heroes,heroes showing off in the movie.
Now this body shackles and shatters in the cold,
Lend me your hand,cause I'm addicted to something to hold.
No don't,cause it's too late,
Now I can't seem to hold upon my fate.
For a time being,these white magic folds became a boon,
I guess I burned up my matches of life too soon.
-