The potential spillage of cigarettes rolled with shaking fingers
the ashes on the carpet are just messy, there's no Phoenix in site
She is in the bottom of the canyon praying to different gods
than the ones you know
high from a peace pipe and lower than she's ever been
What of the devil makes you shed your skin?
Snake dance into the night
let the river pound your bones
with its rushing waters
you are the canoe.
I am your paddle.
Let's get somewhere.
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