Dead Against Smoking

You sleep like a kid with one hand stuck fast to the side of your face
Your backside in the air, mouth half-open, but still filled with grace

And you seem so happy as your skin turns the colour of a violet-golden sky
And it cuts me up when we fight and go to bed facing opposite sides

You're like gasoline
You're like the willow tree
You're like a split-screen
But you're the green in me

And you smoke when you're hurt or bored or out with friends, but I don't mind
Who cares if the big "C" comes?
We're young, we're having some lovely times

You frown as the clouds bring you down, drop to your knees and scream, "Oh, my God!"
But you really shouldn't bother, there's bigger things going on
You little sod, you little sod

You're like gasoline
You're like the willow tree
You're like a split-screen
But you're the green in me

You're like gasoline
You're like the willow tree
You're like a split-screen
But you're the green in me



Credits
Writer(s): Louis Abbott, Sarah Hayes, Kevin Brolly, Philip Hague, Joseph Rattray
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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