I take a nauseous ride to home at night
On a familiar green bus
My fingers smell like smoke, I pray to God
That mom wouldn't mind
I clearly didn't need the last Budweiser
I handed it to my best friend
I know, he cherishes little surprises
And I cherish that.
If someday I will become a parent
I really want my teenage kids to know
The only thing that alcohol can't clean
Is your soul.
The girl with giant photo camera
Is making me uncomfortably numb.
I really like her hair, and I think she's nice.
But she has to stop.
And I don't know what I am doing here
And no one wants to share a cigarette.
And most of them clearly forgot my name.
And I think that's kinda sad.
If someday somehow I will have children
I really want this hammered in their heads:
The only ones who never lose their value
Are real friends.
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