Lyrics Cigarettes, Boys, And Movies - Two Inch Astronaut

Cigarettes, Boys, And Movies

Speed of spit a little slower
That’s the spot below the fulcrum
Where the wrist will prop me up
Pounds of rocks inside the pockets
Silverware stuck in the sockets
Light me up and make a firebomb
Cigarettes, and boys and movies
No longer mean nothin' to me
When did we get so old?
Cuts both ways across
So sell it back at cost
And wonder your mother would she cry
If she knew what you gave, gave, gave up?
Shuck and jive right in the face of everyone who’s got a case of
Something that could hurt you too
Disrepair and demolition
Start at home inside the crawlspace
Where they learned to be that way
Cuts both ways across
So sell it back at cost
And wonder your mother would she cry
If she knew what you gave, gave, gave up?
Now I can feel the life slip
Now I can feel the life slip
Out of me
With repetition
Cigarettes, boys, and movies
No longer mean nothin' to me
Tell me when we got so old