Lonely Friday, dead at night
stood I, starving for some lights,
had I some stock, I would not have
gone like a quiet fox
to my fathers one and only
silvery box

Onto my quest of lungs' guillotine
To open the box for my, nicotine

My racoon hands,
they finished the deed, box unlocked
finding with delight
fine pair of
smoldering lights

Now I sit back and relax
a steady fire consumes
this one and only
cigarette light.