The Friend Catcher

I, cigarette fingers



puff and poke



puff and poking the smoke



touches the ground



You, your lungs and your wrists



they throb like trains



choo choo choo



it's a prison of sound



of sound



She, by my chinny chin chin [buying chilly chin-chin?]



Eee-oh Eee-oh



Like a zippo smokes the way



hope, around



You, your lungs and your wrists



they throb like trains



choo choo choo



It's a prison of sound



a prison of sound



She, by the hair of my chinny chin chin



Eee-oh Eee-oh Eee-oh Eee-oh



Like a zippo smokes the way



hope, around



You, your lungs and your wrists



they throb like trains



choo choo choo



it's a prison of sound



I poke around...