Smoke, rising off the cold hard desolate concrete
Damp, rising through my tattered canvas shoes
Bums, looking more and more like me each day
Thumbs, ridden with the dark black sludge of tar
Get me through the day with the help of a close network of friends. GONE!
Slipping further from me now with every day
Smiths, coursing through my veins and slowing me
With every second on the…
Takes you far away from clarity
But it’s good [its good
Good ‘cos I can’t bare the stilling silence
And it’s good [its good] good because now I don’t have to [inaudible]
Get you through the day with the help of a close network of buddies, my buddies but they’re gone, slipping further from me every day
And I don’t like the pain! No I don’t like the pain
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