Vietato Fumare
Cobalt London Smaug
The pocket knife hung Closed to society Afraid to open In fear of responsibility The knife's half open But could still break your heart Letting in hatred from the dark Ventures out only after rehearsing his part Fully open now Soaking in the pain from outside Seething with anger to fit his crowd He's sharp enough to cut your lying hide Folding out to pain Should have stay locked To the outside