Holy Smoke

I sigh with every breath I'm breathing

It's some kind of holy smoke that I believe

Will take me on my way

Some hobo - the dust on my old boots is settling

And I'm slowly growing roots I said

Would never tidy me away

Uhoh, uhoh, uhoh, uhoh

I do remember what an old friend told me

He said "don't you go worrying about me

I'm only sad as I want to be"

Well that's as maybe, but do I want to be like trees

Who stand round in freezing fog just waiting

For the spring to come for me?

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh noo