Achilles Lung - Million Dead

Stop trying to pretend that you are going to stop

You’re either a smoker or you’re not

You will keep on smoking for the rest of your life

And then you’ll get cancer and then you’ll die

I can stop whenever I please and anyway

I’m immune to emphysema and heart disease

My diary says tomorrow is the day I quit

And I’m going to stick with that

I’ll work my way down to the end of this pack

And then I’m leaving this place and I’m never coming back again

Little itches need no stitches but they bury you

If you keep on scratching you’ll go right through

Whiskey for the amputee is just the thing to ease the sting

I’ll work my way down to the end of this pack

And then I’m leaving this place and I’m never coming back again

I’ve got a list of things to get round to

I’ve got a list of all the things I shouldn’t do

I know it by heart

I’ve got the damn thing in my pocket

But despite myself it’s the middle of the night and I am round at your house

again

Trying to pretend that I am going to stop

I’m either a smoker or I’m not

You will keep on smoking for the rest of my life

And don’t I know it:

My favourite fatal weakness

I’ll work my way down to the end of this pack

And then I’m leaving this place and I’m never coming back again

I’ll work my way down to the end of this pack

And then I’m leaving this place and I’m never coming back

I’ll see you around, somewhere in town

Or next time I’m down, probably right here