The Final Fire

Lying in his arms, my head on his shoulder
warmed by his touch, the night getting colder
I knew his eyes were deceiving,I knew it wasnt forever
The last puff, of the last cigarette, he had promised we'd have together.

One night, tonight, come dawn, he'd be gone
Left with his reveries, deserted in this luscious lawn
those chuckles,in concentric circles, will float aimlessly in the air
with the last puff, of the last cigarette, he had promised we'd share.

And when he'll be lost in his world,with me, disconnected
Incomplete I'll be, indecorously intoxicated
Yet no fervor will fire within me,of no vodka, no coke
nor the last puff,of the last cigarette, he had promised we'd smoke...

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Frohike: You don't smoke?
Scully: But who's got a match? (several lighters are in front of her immediately) Well ... I just can't decide who lights my fire.
--(X-Files)