a cigarette slipped between my left hand's fingers
i let myself swing to the tune
as the smokes slowly spread into my lungs and filled my head, we met in my thoughts
i see you, you see me.
we're running, walking, slowly drifting
apart by miles, the situation never seemed to take sides on feelings
our egos and prides, blocks the way
there are times when it's mine, and maybe now it's yours.
with your physical attendance,
a nice warm evening conversation would be lovely.
with a cup of coffee, or maybe tea.
you'll smoke, and i'll delightfully watch.
so please, talk, talk, talk... i won't feel bored, even for a glance
win the battle, come home soon.