He sits alone
Tobacco,papers and butt's by his side
Click goes the rollie machine open
Packs a cigarette
Closes the machine
Click's it open
Pulls it out and add's it to his collection
He sits alone
Bullet and gun by his side
He picks up the gun
Click's open the chamber
Pack's the bullet into it
Click's it shut
Puts it to his head
Pulls the trigger
And now he's dead
Both are committing suicide
They'll both die from what they pack
For one there's no going back.
