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

Tell me, which is harder.
Waiting for something you know will never be in your cards,
or having to come with the terms that it will never happen.

He got up one morning
All charged up for the day
A long to-do list
And passion on his mind lay

A belief in his talents
Strong in his ways
To capture the world
To provide value that pays

To reach the stars was his aim
Work hard he did, never lay
His time was too precious
Successful he was, some may say

He thought the world needed him
Things would not work night and day
There were very few
To take his place in a way

But the world has its course
Its plan, its surreal own ways
Things bound to happen
Will happen anyway

The stars will shift
The oceans will drift
The air will greet
The sun will beat

The things bound to happen
Will happen anyway.