I cigarette fingers. puff and poke. puff and poking the smoke. touches the ground. . You your lungs and your wrists. they throb like trains. choo choo choo. it's a prison of sound. . of sound. . She by my chinny chin chin [buying chilly chin-chin?]. Eee-oh Eee-oh. Like a zippo smokes the way. hope around. . You your lungs and your wrists. they throb like trains. choo choo choo. It's a prison of sound. . a prison of sound. . She by the hair of my chinny chin chin. Eee-oh Eee-oh Eee-oh Eee-oh. Like a zippo smokes the way. hope around. . You your lungs and your wrists. they throb like trains. choo choo choo. it's a prison of sound. . I poke around....