Ghirlszal
Slipping out of class and packing Turkish Royals, blow out smoke.
Take a trip to Gas Stop, sunroof down and seatbelts off, lips pout, smoke.
Shoving the MP3 skull mix into the Honda’s open mouth, play that Siamese Dream.
A mix of long hair flying in the wind: brown, red, and blonde. No girl scouts, smoke.
To the levee, rolling down the hill, making necklaces out of greenery, get the speaker.
Dance around for a while, get the kodak, hang on, time-out, smoke.
Who’s got the needle and henna, poking our ankles, drawing pictures.
Hand me a cigarette and light it too, I’ve only got one hand free and I’m all out smoke.
Man, why weren't we born in New Orleans? They got tattoos and flash the bridge too.
Let's go down there tonight GA, we’ll be back by morning. They all bout smoke.