Passenger seat of your Pontiac, a cigarette in hand
Second-hand smoke childhood, grown up on-demand
As addiction sows her seeds in me, I’ll pass it back to you
Our teenage love is dangerous, but your beater car is blue
We can race down the backroads, find a quiet place
Light a joint and take a hit. My fate with you is laced
Your psychedelic highs, may they guide your plight
Speeding up the highway, with but a cigarette for light
Our parents drank their sorrows, gave the rest to us
So here we are, tried and true, with a shot between my bust