holding on
holding on
if I had a smoke for each time I thought of you,
I would be made of cancer.
I would be the black plaque buildup in your lungs,
Clutching onto every last breath you take.
if I had a smoke for each time I thought of you,
I would be made of cancer.
I would be the black plaque buildup in your lungs,
Clutching onto every last breath you take.