11. GOD HE IS A SMOKER OF HAVANAS

God he is a smoker of Havanas.
I can see him enshrouded in clouds of grey.
I know that he is lit up deep inside the night
Just as myself, ma cherie.

You are just a lover of Gitane.
I see you covered in smoke wreaths of blue.
The stench sometimes it brings sweat into my eyes
You’re my master, after God.

God he is a smoker of Havanas.
I asked him myself, he replied;
“Sweet smoking can send you straight into heaven”.
I know that, my darling.

You are just a lover of Gitane.
Without them you’re nothing but in misery.
Open your eyes to the unclouded moonlight,
for the love of God.

God he is a smoker of Havanas.
I’d be closer to you but farther from him.
I’d adore keeping you with me for the rest of my life.
Can’t you understand me, ma cherie?

You are just a lover of Gitane.
And I long to see the very last one.
Smoulder to nothing in the corner of my eyes.
Love me, For the Love of God.

God he is a smoker of Havanas.
I’d be closer to you, but further from him.
I’d adore keeping you with me for the rest of my life.
Can’t you understand me, ma cherie?

You are just a lover of Gitane.
And I long to see the very last one.
Smoulder to nothing in the corner of my eyes.
Love me, For the Love of God.