I am a cigarette whose burdens are finite,
Finding faith in formal evening attire.
Give me your tired, give me your poor huddled masses.
Lighten up, light me up, let me light up the lie.

I am a Christmas light with low self-esteem.
String me up, tie that noose 'round your fake plastic tree.
Plug me in and let the bottom drop out:
Dripping blood, drink it up, drink in honor of me.

I am a memory who's jerking you back
From your dreams, from the cusp of sleep.
So toss and turn, so delight in the fact
That you are who you are because of me.