~Cigar Relationships~

Man she loves this dating game.
Mainly "cause It's good
To add a little spice to the life she's been through.
And every guy exagerates a tiny little bit
To make his lie sound more real then it really is.
But he can't appear "weak" man...
She wants to hear "meek" man...
She wants to hear how you came up from the streets.
Don't take it as sarcastic.
She can't get enough.
I'm telling you, don't call her bluff if you ain't got the stuff.
Because she really does need it.
She's not even ashamed.
She's got too much reality filling up her brain.
And I'm telling you right now...
She's addicted to this game.
Just pack'n it like a ciggerate,
She'll light it up man!

-Chorus-
It's just like a ciggerate...
It's something that she'll do...
Once in awhile,
But between me and you...
It's just like a ciggerate...
She's not really a fool.
She don't want the truth...
She just wants to be some one's tool.

Let me tell you something that I've realized tonight.
Her dates are more like marlboro light.
They're both telling stories and sound about the same.
Ciggerates say they're really safe...
Her dates claim about the same.
She don't really care if It's the truth,
Even though she frowns.
She doesn't really believe the words,
She just loves the way it sounds.
She's acting like a fool,
While they're lying to her face.
Maybe she is a fool,
Becuase sometimes she buys it anyways.

She's running out to get the next.
This year that makes three.
She'll suck it up to lies, "love", but mainly glee.
The same way she would suck in all those stories
When she breaths
In that little bit of death that supposedly "cancer free".
And everything they say has her twisted up.
And twisted up what she wants...
She can't get enough!
Because even though she knows It's just a big bluff...
She just lights another up...
Man she don't give a Fu**!

-Chorus x2-

~Work In Progress~ (~Ant Farm~)

He's there once again.
Trying to piece together the fragments.
His life is broken glass...
Empty chairs...
Rumaging through ones and "Oh's"...
Trying to make a two.
Trying to make it too.
And these glimpses of beautiful wonderful things,
Startle him in his dreams.
He'd have to scan back years for his innocence.
There's not much light in his twighlight world.
Wouldn't bet a dollar if the sun is real...
Or maybe just phantom memories more beautiful then anything his world could produce.

That deep hole...
Yeah that deep hole...
Old gripping soul casting down that deep hole.
...
It grips the legs and carries the body down to the depths...
While the memories dissapear like sand blown through the streets.
Won't remember having them...
Won't remember the sun.
Won't give a buck to bet It's true.

Dismayed from displays of fitfull days...
But oh Lord,
Still so stubborn!
He'll never give up the dreams he's fought so long to keep.
Cling and claw... you'll lose them all.
While the street accepts bodies that sprawl.
This same old familiar street.
It hold so much of his blood.

Life is a fool to trust so much to this man...
And I'm a fool to know him.
But this isn't the end.
Lord knows this isn't the end.
This man will keep taking and taking these tokens...
Because ant farms were made to be broken.