Forgetiquette - Vendetta Red

Half a pack of cigarettes 
Mostly broke or bent 
I think of cancer as 
I put one to my cracked lips 
That long to slake this poison lust 
Voices spin and resonate inside 
This old phone booth shelters me 
From these lonely streets 
If only God would grant me strength 
To call you 
Just three words could help me 
Slake this poison lust 
Esoteric memory 
You're an eyesore now 
Grab your handle 
Twist your blade 
Deep in my wound 

********************************
Note:
The White Knuckled album is complete. It's other songs are posted elsewhere.