smoke by wagonman

As I inhale my memories come back to me 

So many thoughts coming to fruition 

It's as if my mind has grown thousands of times over

Each thought brings back memories of my five senses

Thinking about past decisions, past mistakes, past victories

This all hits me like I'm a dog running across frontage road 

Trying to reach the other side but I fail 

Because the drunk semi truck driver is too faded to watch the road

My guts splatter across the pavement and the grill of the truck

My mind is a prison which I have the key to

Its almost as if this self torture is therapy to my current life predicament

Dramatic I know, but I toy with the keys with every sesh of smoke 

As I exhale if forget the memories and slowly come back to earth 

I still have the keys to my cell