Its 4 am I'm listening to a room of chainsmokers
Sound of a cigarette pressed hard against wet lips expanding at the fold, it draws me in and I wonder why I don't smoke

we listen like shapes of clouds
barely made out
recognized the best in the context of great ideas in ceramic cups
hot hot air was all we need to fill us up

So my ankles roll in my cubicle for a cigarette break
I want to stand outside at 3 in the afternoon
As the it twists between my finger tips and my hips

its 4 am I'm listening to a room of chainsmokers
sound of a cigarette pressed hard against wet lips expanding at the folds draws me in and I wonder why I don't smoke.




Lyrics submitted by htcore

Chainsmokers song meanings
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