Cigarette Scars

Where I walk
Is a path of dark
Cigarette scars burn my arms
I need something to change
Lost all feeling lost all pain
Reminded of Marlboro's minty taste

And if my dull ash coloured skin
Crumbles at the sight of them
If my dull, coloured skin
Seems to fall
Then what do I have left?

What do I have left?

Killing game
Sitting down as I patiently wait
For the fire to ignite into flames
Smoke inhaled lungs
And the words you say choke in my thoughts
Was I always just the ashtray?
From the start

And I pray for the day
That I get back the oxygen
I never had
And I pray for the day
That I'm finally free
Of your tobacco land
And I pray for the day
Not left on the chain
To say that I'm finally free

And if my dull ash coloured skin
Crumbles at the sight of them
If my dull, coloured skin
Seems to fall
Then what do I have left?

Then what do I have?