Here we are, suicide brothers through time; we watch our souls turn to smoke and float away without us, leaving us and fading up into the dim blue sky, until complete nirvana is found. Soon we rest peacefully and our lives are as perfect as the harmony of a symphony orchestra to our ears. Tomorrow comes and we wake in sobriety, even though it feels like tribulation, until finally we meet again and our lives are shaped to our creation, at least for an hour in limitless time. We sit and laugh like the good times we have together cost money, only to eventually end up poor, and when we're out on the streets we'll both be craving more. We search for lost bliss, but we'll never find it -- It turned into smoke and floated away without us, leaving us in silence and fading into the dim blue sky.
