Hey hey it's been so long since I have written with pen
Ya know its sharper than a sabre, I don't feel like Errol Flynn
Got no computer I can't type the letter in
You're not responding right I guess I better start again

Well lets pretend this fellas hungry, got a dozen mouths to feed
He asked for money for a bus pass and my heart bleeds
I throw him a dollar that's exactly what he needs
To get another jug of Thunderbird and naturally ask me for a

Last cigarette, last cigarette, last cigarette,
one before I go to bed
I know it's killing me
(shut up!)

It's getting late you got to get the kitten fed
You got to kiss the little woman put the children in the bed
Check the sports and weather and the living and the dead
You don't have to read the headlines you can hear what Johnny Carson said

Oh mister sandman won't you listen to me please I'm saying
I'll stay in bed but I'll pretend I'm on my knees and praying
One for my hunger and another for my greed
And just forget about my envy Lord and give me what I need, I need a

Last cigarette, last cigarette, last cigarette,
one before I go to bed
I know it's killing me

Writer : EASDALE, JOHN MILLS
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing