LYRICS
Use A− / A+ to adjust text sizePlastic Cigarette
Well, I ain't written a love songin so long as your hair leads down your spineBut I don't mind a few lines tonightI'll regret it for the rest of timeLet your hips and your lipsand your fingertips slip against the city streetsSeepin' in again, sleepin' inwhile my friends get high on the edgeof the West Side HighwayDid you ever make it back to Byron Baythe day you told me to quit drinkin'?And thinkin' that I was gonna diebefore thirty, your mom was so worried aboutAll those kids in the house tearin' picture frames downOur fathers were never around when we were youngerSo let me go, I saw you on the river's edgeDraggin' on a plastic cigaretteWith your swim top still wetSo let it go, meetin' you out on the coastYou hate the smell of real smokeSo why'd you always keep me so close?You were collectin' shells out on the Bay Shoreyou know I was a shell before?Deep in the hands of another, my brotherHad told me to leave, but I didn't believeThat evil would mean some people you meet out in QueensThe way the rain came down the other day in Bryon BayMade me feel so alone, so I just went homeAnd scribbled some poemThat I know that you'll never readSo let it go, I saw you on the river's edgeDraggin' on a plastic cigaretteWith your swim top still wetSo let me go, meetin' you out on the coastYou hate the smell of real smokeWhy'd you always keep it so close?So let it go, I saw you on the river's edgeDraggin' on a plastic cigaretteWith your swim top still wet
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