Just Like Smoke

    Ah you hate to see another tired man
    Lay down his hand
    Like he was giving up the holy game of poker
    And while he talks his dreams to sleep
    You notice there's a highway
    that is curling up like smoke above his shoulder
    It is curling just like smoke above his shoulder

The Stranger Song
(Cohen)
Leonard Cohen
1967

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Aubrey Bodine