Cigarettes and Wine
by Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit
Wings on her shoulders and feet, bar on Gethsemane Street
I took time to plan my retreat
And backed out the door.
Must be attracted to those who witnessed a man in the throes
Of a life that ain’t grindstone to nose
But pedal to floor
She smelled like cigarettes and wine; she kept me happy all the time
I know that ain’t much of a line
But it’s the gods’ own truth.
She lives down inside of me still, rolled up like a twenty dollar bill
She left me alone with these pills
And the last of my youth.