This song doesn’t rush you. It just waits until you’re ready. Beautifully done.

For All You Give

Young North

Paint

Woodland

Featherstone

lyrics 

Do you really wanna see me rot 
I hate my life you ruined it you stupid thot
Do you really wanna see me rot 
I'll kill myself on live bitch I kid you not

I hate to socialize I just want to die
I dropped out of highschool man I failed at life
We all go someday so why can't I just go now?
There's nothing left to say just put me in the ground
Put the AA-12 gauge to my fuckin head 
They're gonna lock me up but I'm not taking meds
The girl I love the most said some things I'll never forget
I can't live without you so I'll just end up dead

Do you really wanna see me rot 
I hate my life you ruined it you stupid thot
Do you really wanna see me rot 
I'll kill myself on live bitch I kid you not

rotrotrot

Something More

Trading Blood for Cigarettes Solo

An Americana ballad about a young man down on his luck, looking for a way up and out.

He sell his blood at the Plasma Center, then goes out and buys a pack of smokes.

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Composer, Producer, Vocal, Guitar - Arthur Davenport

Recorded by Tom Mohbat at Iliki Studio in Hilo, Hawai'i, USA November 14th, 2025

Mixed by Will Russell at Electric Wilburland, Newfield, New York, USA, and Arthur Davenport at GRM Studio in Hilo, Hawai'i, USA

Single Released 2026.03.08  -  SoundCloud

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Lyrics

Trading Blood for Cigarettes     by Arthur Davenport   (1991.06)


Walking across town at the crack of dawn, 
wondering how hard it can get.
Bending the rules.   He's nobody's fool.   
He’s been selling his blood for cigarettes.

The recruiter man, he says:  
"Hey son, would you put it on the line?"
"Trade your blood for freedom, son.  
Would you get ahead on the climb."

He says: “Tell me about your freedom man?  
Hay, is that what you get?
The freedom to stand in line man, and then to get in debt?”

You didn't write the rules boy, that you can't forget.
Now we're gonna play you the fool boy. 
Keep on trading your blood for cigarettes".

He rode the train to Portland town.  
Moving on down the line.
Cross-tie walking into town.  
He's looking for some over-time.

The cotton boss, he's riding herd. 
He's taking all he can get.
He's looking for the day when he plays his own gig. 
Quit trading his blood for cigarettes.

He's making the scene, living real clean. 
He quit trading his blood for cigarettes.

Forgotten song on the radio. He remembers to forget.
She sang so sweet in the ancient spring, 
when the two of them first met.

Now he's walking across town at the crack of dawn.  
Wondering how hard it can get?
He's bending the rules, nobody’s fool.  
He’s been trading his blood for cigarettes.

He's making the scene, living real clean. 
He quit trading his blood for cigarettes.

Paint

thepaperkites

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Kevin Sweet

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