Catching fluorescent rays
Wishing I was riding in a station wagon
Smoking cigarettes with hippy girls
With beads around their hair
And hair across their eyes
And songs upon their lips
Singing hold me closer tiny dancer
Like Almost Famous
But without the band
No money
No shoes
No map
Drunken teenage haze
Hazy summer days
Poems that never rhyme
Words that never pay
Always tired
Never sleeping
Stealing kisses
In a gas station parking lot
Or the backseat of a moving car
While the others turned away
Head out the window
Let the wind blow
Back your hair
Cause tramps like us
Baby we were born to drive
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