The Cigarette Diaries


I’m feeling inspired and a little wired,

Got me feeling this fire,

Light a cigarette until my lungs expire,

Why retire I been high off life,

witness the poetry of a cigarette,

she ain’t a hoe she intimate,

commies taste like liquorice,

her pussy all tickelish,

1960s syndicate sipping rum,

writing diaries filled with rhymes they shun,

if God is one I am too,

that’s too, not two, take out the double u,

stand for you rights or they’ll make fun of you,

what i want is to fund a school,

that teaches nothing,

we all students dear prudence what type of mess are you in,

i run with the zapatistas all the way the brooklyn,

wear a black mask so yall can’t look in,

I’m the mirror that reflects every human dispossessed,

subcommandante marcos, carlos sanchez,

open up the gates let me borrow those cassettes,

cause I know what they got hidden on them tapes,

out in Syria contemplating God and satan,

wondering which side got the better bargain,

wipe my hands in the sand grains and pray to the gods,

even if I shake your bones, its okay,

these are only sticks and stones.

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