Smoking A Consulate
One time that I strayed I was fighting for peace
She joked that she was f***ing for Jesus.
So that kind of made it OK
We tripped up the stairs
She was smoking a Consulate
The menthol smoke rings dispersed on our tongues
And I lost my way.
On a Wednesday evening
At an eight-ball motel
With plasterboard walls
Under the pylons.
We heard doors open and we hear doors close
Out in the corridor.
You had this T-shirt with the slogan
"Stay alive in '85"
Not one of Katherine Hamnet's better designs
And a blue silk jacket
By Paul Smith
Long before anyone had ever heard of him.
All bootsale rags
Car bootsale rags now
And it's a Wednesday evening
At an eight-ball motel
Those plasterboard walls
Under the pylons.
I see doors open and I see doors close
And I'm out in the corridor.
Smoking a Consulate