Timothy Cameron: Noises

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Looks like there's an industry that takes you to your final breath
Still they're pleading innocent while causing menthol-flavoured death
You're the butt of their joke, keep laughing till you choke
They filter the truth, resorting to such
Ruthless measures as peer pressure

Looks like there's an industry whose king size lobby cracks the whip
Pushers, whose junkies all insist they'd rather fight than switch
The money you've burned, on the ashes that you've earned/urned
Proves you'll never quit, so get a lung little stogie
It's in vogue, we

See nothing wrong as long as the cash is flowing,
Our future's bright from all of the gaspers glowing,
Facts disappear, second hand smoke and mirrors has been
Our stock in trade for years

Well it looks like there's an industry concealing craven cowardice,
How did Walter Raleigh ever talk us into all of this
You cancertainly stop temporarily
But still you'll return to the comfort of the
Burning embers, you remember.

(words & music by Timothy Cameron)