On rainy nights with colored lights,
in cracking, cobbled streets,
I lit and smoked my first cigar.
The smoke was hot and sweet.
Then I walked down to the tavern
and I had a glass of stout,
to wet my throat, for the hot smoke
had gone and dried me out.

Thank gods for thirst, and hot, dry smoke,
or never would I meet,
the black-haired girl who watches rain
and kisses bittersweet.
Affection hits like opium,
and feels so very nice.
Before I know, I just let go
and lose myself to vice.

Many bad decisions made
and many more would follow.
I'd smoke and drink till I would stink
and both my eyes were hollow.
On a rainy night, 'neath colored light,
I'd pass out in the street,
and wake up by her window,
under sunlight, hot and sweet.

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Daedalan, in the year 1013 AF.