Dry heave doubt

From a little dragon's mouth

Split lip and split tongue

Finally, cross eyed

She stands next to the cigarette machine

"This device has got it made," she thinks

It has a cast iron stomach

But a candle for a heart

Odd the way the very stuff falls out

Hard the way it makes you doubt

This thing leaps up and complains, full of bile

Not even starcrossed, just unlucky

Odd how the very stuff falls out

Hard the way it makes you smile

This thing leaps up and complains

Not even starcrossed, just unlucky