walking along smoking NSFW

Tune 🎧🎤🎶💎💎💎👑💣🚿🧴🪣🎲🧨 UFO vapes ©
"U F O vapes and wasp" two of the best alternative music pirate complex song writers in Blackpool 👽💀🏴‍☠️🇬🇧 rejected by the mainstream media 👍👍👍 "U F O vapes, wasp

"walking along smoking a bong, wondering what the fuck is going on.."

Yo, rain slaps the cobbled stones, a grey dawn bleeds in the sky,
Only one U F O vapes, watchin' the world stumble by.
Bong to his lips, glass pipe clutched tight in his hand,
Puffin' that potent chronic, lost in this Blackpool wasteland.
Eyes bloodshot red, pupils blown wide, mind's a swirling vortex,
Every shadow shiftin', a paranoia that perplexes.
He wonders what the fuck is goin' on, a common refrain,
As the sea breeze carries whispers of madness and urban pain.

"walking along smoking a bong, wondering what the fuck is going on.."

Faded neon hums, arcade lights flash in the gloomy haze,
Another pissed-up stag do, lost in their drunken daze.
Donkey rides stood silent, waitin' for the tourist rush,
While the back alleys whisper secrets, closin' in with a hush.
He sees the cracks in the pavement, the dreams that have chipped away,
The desperate glint in eyes that hope for a better day.
Is this reality, or just a haze from the kush he burned?
Every corner a new question, every lesson unlearned.

"walking along smoking a bong, wondering what the fuck is going on.."

This ain't no holiday brochure, no postcard perfect scene,
It's the hustler's grin, the junkie's nod, the desperate in-between.
He sees the dealers lurkin', close to the pier's dark edge,
Whisperin' promises of escape, on life's precarious ledge.
They call him U F O vapes 'cause he feels like he's dropped from space,
Observin' this human carnival, the madness of the race.
A lone voyager, adrift in a sea of flashing lights,
Navigatin' the concrete jungle through these murky Blackpool nights.

"walking along smoking a bong, wondering what the fuck is going on.."

Each pull from the bong, a temporary release from the dread,
A cloud of thick smoke, filling the void in his head.
Tryna make sense of the chaos, the laughter and the tears,
Through the haze of the herb, confrontin' his own worst fears.
So he keeps on walkin', this solitary, high-minded sage,
Flippin' through Blackpool's dark, bewildering, concrete page.
Still puffin' that bong, still questionin' the grand design, fam,
Yeah, only one U F O vapes, what the fuck is goin' on, man?

"walking along smoking a bong, wondering what the fuck is going on.."

Yo, they call him U F O vapes, ain't another like him,
Only dude I know who walks the block with glass on the brim.
Strollin' by the Tower, where the salty wind gets grim,
Puffin' on a fat one, watchin' shadows twist and swim.
Hydroponic haze, cloudin' up his inner vision,
Percolator bubblin', escapin' all incision.
Slow motion through the chaos, an alien decision,
Just what the fuck is happenin'? A cosmic television?

"walking along smoking a bong, wondering what the fuck is going on.."

Past the greasy chippies, sticky floors of Pleasure Beach,
Mind driftin' far beyond what preachers try to teach.
Every neon flicker, a conspiracy within reach,
Like he's tuned to frequencies no human mind can breach.
Hands gripped tight around the glass, a ritualistic hold,
Tryna piece together stories that were never fully told.
In this town of faded glory, where the future feels so cold,
He asks himself aloud, "Is this the only role to mold?"

"walking along smoking a bong, wondering what the fuck is going on.."

Every step's a stumble, through the litter-strewn terrain,
Head held high, but shoulders carry all the world's harsh strain.
The smoke exhaled, a grey ghost whisperin' in the rain,
He's searchin' for the puzzle piece to ease the mental pain.
They see a stoner shufflin', lost inside his private fog,
But underneath the surface, is a philosophical monolog.
"Is this a simulation? Or some cosmic fuckin' blog?"
He's the only one awake, amongst the sleepwalking throngs.

"walking along smoking a bong, wondering what the fuck is going on.."

From the Golden Mile's loud echoes to the back alleys' decay,
He's the lone cosmic cowboy ridin' in a different way.
With a lung full of ganja, every single lonely day,
Tryna crack the code of why we're here, what we're meant to say.
The truth is blurry, swirly, like the patterns in his hit,
He's absorbed it all, the misery, the madness, every bit.
And no matter what the answer is, or if he'll ever quit,
There's only one U F O vapes, still wonderin' on this strip.

"walking along smoking a bong, wondering what the fuck is going on.."