Watch them pass the roll of grass
As they fall...  
                         down on their ***
Let them sit and take a hit
Even though it smells like ****
I want to be a different kind of free
Where I can just be me
And dance in modest pants
To a song of romance
"It's not my crowd"
I say out loud
"I belong on the ground"
Far from the **** and tar
Out of the clouds running far
To a place bound in lace
*As pretty as my face