Stale Cigarettes

We can blame it on the past
we could forgive ourselves for future problems
but what's the sense in collecting dust
there's no room in here to be selfish fucks
If there was one word to describe myself
I'd let you know right away.
Singing and whispers won't make me feel better
I'm burning inside but cool on the surface
nothing feels good
and feeling good seems like a myth anyways