As the cigarette leaves yours lips
And starts to stain your finger tips
Smoke slides across the frosty air
Lingers on your clothes and hair
Mixes with the smell of wine
Perhaps one day you will be mine
The musky scent of aftershave
Makes me want to misbehave
You sweep me off my feet, how I love to be carried
Oh why the hell do you have to married?
Tobacco Haze
(1999)
