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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-10-28 | [Este texto, tienes que leerlo en english] | Inscrito en la biblioteca por Florescu Bogdan
Not every cigarette is a dead, dead thing
Some have a mind and try to be other things Pushed in the pack, they crave some Virginia air Softly, they pray to someone, but life ain't fair They're born to lose They're born to fill The lungs of Jack The lungs of Jill And like I said Life just isn't fair Nicotina, Nicotina, Nicotina is her name Once in a while a cigarette has a name N-I-C-O-T-I-N-A, that's her name She had a tiny voice, and she sang all day She was a cigarette, but she loved to play Nicotina, Nicotina, Nicotina is her name A man with a cough Stepped to the machine Dropped coins in the slot The end of a dream He ripped the pack and coughed, and then coughed again Popped out a cigarette, and we're near the end She screamed and screamed but so much was filtered out Now Nicotina's only a tiny cloud Nicotina's gone, but life goes on though Nicotina's gone, but life goes on though Nicotina's gone, but life goes on and on and on and on and on Nicotina, Nicotina, Nicotina was her name.
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