Cigarette — Beyond Dawn

There's a cold, constant neon flicker Filled with an odour of decline and sour liqour Where bodies intertwine and spirits linger I suck the blood of a left hand finger And with it I release my self-esteem A reason to redeem I'm a failure - I'm unclean

There's not an action I regret I light another cigarette

And through the smoke, I feel the scent Of something far beyond an incident A lecture for the trivial Artistic, not theatrical And she moves just like an erotic cabar't Leaving the lust for both happiness and dismay The softest lips, gold gracious fingertips