Marlboros don't compare to the taste of Camels.
But I can't smoke camels anymore.
Even the smell of them reminds me of this idea I had.
The idea of you, me, and what could be, not sad.
Now I guess I should say what could have been.
It's a me problem that I didn't say something then.
That's a me problem, sure.
It's not my problem that you don't love me, no,
That one is on her.
I'm just sorry.
I should've said something when our eyes headlocked.
I should've breathed "i love you", when we chain smoked
In your dirty pickup truck.
I stopped with the Marlboros, a smell you couldn't stand
Look how much I love you I even switched my brand.
So we smoked camels all day, we went through two packs
But now, I can only stomach Marlboro blacks. Only those
I can handle because camels taste like your lips.
They taste like your kiss, and the smoke mirrors the
Chapstick. That chapstick reminds me of your spit.
Needless to say that I don't miss Camels.
Not even a little bit.
(P.S. I still love you.)