I don't really smoke, but if I did, it'd be the perfect time. Thoughts run reckless across my mind while I indulge in tasteless wine.
Too pessimistic for smoke and mirrors so I'm static while others chase the signs. Some vapors in my presence might dilute this refined state of mind.
Inclined to align to others past times but I must declined. That glazed over, hazed over, look you display can only fray the mind.
Dull steel can't cut the layers of the sky and ascend to higher space in time. I'd rather stay sharp so I can fillet these ties and lies that bind.
My thinking is 30 stories up so I guess I'm always high. Didn't even need a Philly or a Swisher, or a lighter.
Just my mind...
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