Читать книгу Nick Cave: Letras - Nick Cave - Страница 34

I: cigarette fingers

Puff and poke, puff and poke

And the smoke it touches the ground

You: your lungs in your wrists

They throb like trains

Choo choo choo choo

It’s a prison of sound

See by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin

Hee-haw! Hee-haw! Hee-haw!

I can’t see for smoke

So I poke around

I poke around