We all came together and sang songs terribly, and had a blast, smoking and drinking and singing awfully, i swear, the fingers fumbling around the keys, too, and everytime the foot dropped there was a pause for a breath and the snow was fallin heavy outside and icicles off the eaves, and we rolled up our sleeves the laughter was work and you could feel the stretch of your smile, and smoke was rushin up the flu and water rushin down the hill, not a goddam thing kept still and fuck it all, we sure were havin the best times of our lives and no one was gonna stop us
Especially when it kills bad people. Smoking is cool. The way it heats the lungs. Smoking is cool. My subconscious told me so. Smoking is cool. I got triggered by old ads. Smoking is cool. The Marlboro Man died cool. I mean dead. Living isn’t cool. It’s tedious and painful. Not like smoking and dying. Not like sex usually. But sex is hot. Smoking is cool. I am an unreliable narrator. That’s cool too. Like net neutrality. Like hating Americans is cool in Iraq. Car bombs are hot. Like sex. In the desert. While smoking on a camel.