Pack of Cigarettes & a Guitar.
I'm just another note, in your symphony.
Grab me by my throat, have me trembling on my knees.
You're just a chain smoker,
I'm a Pack of Cigarettes.
I cross the line & lean over, nothing I regret.
You tighten the strings, make another sound.
Play a rhythm, and just keep smoking around.
And with every noise, your eyes they shine brighter.
Cause the only hand you need is the one with the lighter.
Now your buds are on the ground.
You wonder what went wrong?
Your chords were right, & so was the tone.
I knew karma, couldn't harm her.
But, this time it's going down.
Cause what goes around...
...must come back around.
Chainsmokers & Symphonies