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...