the friend catcher

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

I, cigarette fingers
puff and poke
puff and poking the smoke
touches the ground


You, your lungs and your wrists
they throb like trains
choo choo choo
it's a prison of sound


of sound


She, by my chinny chin chin [buying chilly chin-chin?]
Eee-oh Eee-oh
Like a zippo smokes the way
hope, around


You, your lungs and your wrists
they throb like trains
choo choo choo
It's a prison of sound


a prison of sound


She, by the hair of my chinny chin chin
Eee-oh Eee-oh Eee-oh Eee-oh
Like a zippo smokes the way
hope, around


You, your lungs and your wrists
they throb like trains
choo choo choo
it's a prison of sound


I poke around...