You are stale smoke.
You just sit in my lungs and make it hard for me to breath.
No high, no artificial euphoria, no automatic relaxation.
Sometimes you make me choke, you make my eyes tear,
But mostly, you do nothing.
I hope she's the right kind of stimulant for you.
Because I guess she's stronger than I am.
She spins you around faster than I could, she makes you so love stoned.
You're caught in my throat now,
I'm coughing, I'm hacking, I'm crying.
You're no good anymore.
You're no good anymore.
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Submission Name: Stale.
