(Number nine...number nine...)
Strange clouds write my songs
Mixed with smoke in the bong
Forecasts looking long
I can't seem to
Grow up out of it
It's not like I'll ever stop
Staying up, getting sick
Some nights I sleep with ghosts
My lungs fill with shadows and smoke
Cough cough it's a real bad joke
I can't seem to
Grow up out of it
It's not like I'll ever stop
Staying up, getting sick
My cat is asleep, I'm spinning in place
Tempting to live in the shade
With love I'll die of old age