The French beauty of smoking a cigarette is a cliché isn't it? When I breathe, you will swallow what I have for you, with my mouth so close to yours, you can only imagine kissing my lips, what would it taste like? Instead, you swallow my spit, clean my ashes, you become my cancer boy

The French beauty of smoking a cigarette is a cliché isn't it? When I breathe, you will swallow what I have for you, with my mouth so close to yours, you can only imagine kissing my lips, what would it taste like? Instead, you swallow my spit, clean my ashes, you become my cancer boy