The Choke was written in an East Village apartment with a bag of rolling tobacco and Eliot Smith playing in the background.
lyrics
Well Im trying my best to get addicted to cigarettes, it hurts my head but it helps my head. Ive made up my mind, Im gonna die trying, the folks back home know I need to unwind.
And if you see me around Ill be outside with my head on the ground you see, no one will sit next to me, pretty please.
Well Im taking it slow, blow by blow, the smoke the choke, anything goes. And if you call me a fool Ill just think I look cool, alone, stoned, anything goes.
And if you see me around Ill be outside with my head in a cloud you see, no one will even talk to me, pretty please.
I roll away the best part of my day, sit in veine and play with my papers all die, I bought a light I bought a case you see...
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