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