Sit down and fire away, I know it's tricky when you're feeling low,

When you feel like your flavour

Has gone the way of a pre-shelled pistachio...

I know you're weighed down

You're fed up with your heavy

Your boots

Laced with melancholy notion's all you own...

I do - like sugar - tend toward the brittle and sticky when spun

And I know my demeanor

Has gone the way of a photo left out in the sun...

I try to keep myself in lillies and flax seeds...

Oh what a folly- fooling just yourself...

Sit down and smoke away,i wouldn't knock it till you're in them shoes

Oh watch as ours subtlety blows away as a blusher gives way to a bruise...

But seemly, we'd freely make a trade-off

A dry rot to take the weight off

Swap the boots for red shoes