Bruised shins and playgrounds
Brown paper sandwich bags tied up
A note from your mother
Don’t smoke on the school grounds
Water turns to vodka
Apple juice to rum
You kiss her on her neck
Then tell her to leave when you’re done
She’s fearful of losing
All the innocent excuses
Stop acting all oblivious
Your tastefully depressing me
Mickeys and hickeys
At 16 your dreaming
Of pretty girls
In some irrelevant world
Now she’s all alone
And your on your own
Water turns to vodka
Apple juice to rum
You kiss her on her neck
Then tell her to leave when you’re done
She’s fearful of losing
All the innocent excuses
Stop acting all oblivious
Your tastefully depressing me
Before you know her
She’ll be gone
Swing sets at night
Cigarettes at dawn
Tastes so sweet
But it’s almost gone
We’re almost gone
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