In little glass trays that reek
Next door
He inhales every morning and exhales every night
The smoke fills his lungs but it always feels right
He can't help but do it for its all that he knows
That little poor addict, at least it's not blow
In little glass trays that reek
Next door
He inhales every morning and exhales every night
The smoke fills his lungs but it always feels right
He can't help but do it for its all that he knows
That little poor addict, at least it's not blow