i'm hanging all these cigarettes belmont blue,
from the ceiling fan in my living room,
like the hue in your eyes or the bruises that you left,
under my skin your the same as every kid,
as soon as the lights go dim.
leave me alone,
you disappear like the smoke on my clothes
you're just another name that cuts to the bone,
every saturday you're there, and I hope you like the smell of his hair,
as much as he likes yours.
i'm hanging all these cigarettes rooftop red,
from the curve in my lip it seeps in to the ceiling of my lungs,
and leaves that taste on my breath I know you hate,
we're all the same under my skin, as soon as the lights go dim.
i can't hold smoke in my lungs like you do, but i can hold on love in my heart, better than you. my hands can't hold onto anything, without it falling apart. i can't forget his name, its the only thing i think of everyday.
i hope sunday morning you wake, filled with alcohol and shame.