drift

O’Sullivan

smoke your cigarette in the snow like the sickness you beat— it’s not the same, same difference smoking kills you’re killing me; I don’t know who my friends are, I don’t know what I mean, I stare at the window but all I can see is the reflection of you in the smoke 1920s just a myth speakeasies and dance parties pins in my hair

take me home and get me wild run your hands through my hair it’s an innocent desire

curiosity killed the cat and I’m curious as hell but satisfaction brought her back tell me what you think of that tell me your hopes your dreams your quietest screams stand in the falling snow light your cigarette let me go.