I, cigarette fingers puff and poke puff and poking the smoke touches the ground you, your lungs and your wrists they throb like trains choo choo choo it's a prison of sound of sound she, by my chinny chin chin eee-oh eee-oh like a zippo smokes the way hope, around you, your lungs and your wrists they throb like trains choo choo choo it's a prison of sound a prison of sound she, by the hair of my chinny chin chin eee-oh eee-oh eee-oh eee-oh like a zippo smokes the way hope, around you, your lungs and your wrists they throb like trains choo choo choo it's a prison of sound I poke around...