Their smoke drifts here.
Their smoke wafts there.
Their smoke defiles you everywhere.
You cheer their frowns because of the ban,
And dream of a less smelly window fan.
And hallways that don’t stink like a ‘butt can’.
Your smoke drifts here.
Your smoke wafts there.
They smell your stench and take it as a dare.
So clean you make them want to cough.
So smug they cannot help but scoff.
So ‘in’ they wish you would buzz off.
Their smoke drifts here.
Their smoke wafts there.
Their smoke proves that life isn’t fair.
Try as you might, they will surely find
A secret spot to visit to unwind,
Where they’ll prove it’s the exclusivity that you mind.