Young girl, cigarette between your lips,
Grey smoke drifting lazily around your mind,
Looking through the grimy window of your life, you see
only grey,
The clouds suspended above polluted sky,
Make you wonder why it is,
Makes you wonder why,
Makes you start to cry,
Slow grey tears slip tiredly down your face,
Reflecting murky sorry thoughts,
Not even the little grey dove below,
Stirs you to a smile.
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