She Lit A Cigarette


She lit a cigarette, the woman who sat at the corner table
The fire from the lighter gave away a sight of streak of tears on her cheek
The bar was dim, but there’s a hint of her broken mascara
And as she lifted the cig to her lips, her hands trembled

Her glass was still full, but there’s a trace of lipstick on its tip
Strange music blasted through the room, but she heard nothing
She was beautiful, the woman who sit at the corner table
A beauty with a pair of empty eyes and no company

She didn’t want to smoke, but she had to numb her feelings
She didn’t want to drink, but she wanted to forget it all
She knew it would be the same the day after, after the night passed
And the cycle would repeat all over again, smoke and drink, smoke and drink

People were dancing, sweating, mating, flirting, but deep down, what?
She was never easy to express her feelings, but right now she needed to
She was sweet, but she had learned to be bitter as she grew up
She was never the kind to ask too much, she just accepted things

She didn’t want to live, but she had no courage to end her life
She hated people who committed suicide, because they were braver than her
She didn’t want to cry, but she had too much mascara she didn’t mind
She had learned that people invented make up to hide feelings

She drank the alcohol, bottoms-up, and she instantly felt happier
The kind of happiness you could buy in a glass; who said money couldn’t buy everything?
She knew it would be the same the day after, after the night passed
But she didn’t care, she just wanted to dance and forget and disappear

And so she stepped on the dance floor and swung to the left, to the right
She didn’t care who would have her tonight, she’d give herself for free
As long as they helped her kill the night, she knew it would be the same the day after
She lit a cigarette, the woman who was swaying on the dance floor.

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